Three Weeks in Kent
by megosborne
Summary: Follows on from Longbourn's Songbird. Col Fitzwilliam and Mary Bennet are to be married, and both Mr Darcy and Elizabeth are desperate to escape marriages their families are determined to arrange. Might they be able to offer one another a way out of their respective predicaments?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N - Continuing where Longbourn's Songbird left off - hoping to have something to update every day (ish) but still a work in progress._

 _Thank you so much for all the reads and comments on my previous story - I hope this next instalment doesn't disappoint! Here we go..x_

* * *

"Elizabeth, I do not how I will manage without you!"

Jane Bennet smiled as she spoke, but the tears that threatened to spill over the lids of her blue eyes belied the expression as anything other than desolation.

"Don't be ridiculous, Jane!" Lizzy said, pulling her sister close in an embrace. "I am going to Kent, not France. It will not be a long separation and we might write - in fact, we _must_ write, for I wish to be kept updated of all the news at Netherfield in my absence."

She did not say _and I shall need some vent for my own frustrations_ , for she knew that would finish Jane entirely, and Lizzy could not cope with another fit of tears, either hers or anybody else's. She was departing for Kent, at the invitation of her sister Mary, whose engagement to Colonel Fitzwilliam was still the most recent news rejoiced upon throughout Longbourn. Her status as an engaged woman had elevated Mary in her mother's opinion, at least, and by comparison, Elizabeth's suffering was almost over. Despite her mother's attempts to win her over, though, Lizzy remained pitched against her, and now the silence was all her own doing. Mrs Bennet had conspired to marry Elizabeth to Mr Collins, despite being fully aware of Lizzy's true feelings for their buffoon of a cousin. It was this that had allowed Mrs Bennet to consent to Lizzy's planned visit to Kent, although as far as Elizabeth was concerned, she was going at Mary's insistence, and Mary's alone. She could ignore Mr Collins just as successfully in Kent as she could in Hertfordshire, and she certainly had no intention of marrying the man, whatever her parents had conspired to say about the matter.

Lizzy's heart sank. It was not her mother's actions that hurt the most, although she had been surprised by Mrs Bennet's determination to have her way in this, and to insist, no matter what Elizabeth said or did, that the marriage must take place. That was not unexpected, for her mother was bound and determined to stay at Longbourn, and if that meant sacrificing one daughter's happiness for the sake of the others, she would do it, rationalising the action in whatever way she needed to that the marriage would grow to be a happy one in time. But in this instance her father too had been brought into the scheme. Lizzy had never imagined that Mr Bennet, after a lifetime of taking his daughter's side against her mother, would suddenly and completely switch allegiances and consent to the marriage in her absence. He had somewhat relented his position since, after Elizabeth's tears and silence and all-round un-Lizzy-like behaviour had impressed upon him how much she despised the idea. The matter was left inconclusive, then, with Mr Bennet permitting that he would approve of the marriage "so long as Lizzy herself wished it". As Lizzy did not, any engagement between herself and Mr Collins was at present only theoretical, although Lizzy knew there would need to be some resolution, and soon, if anybody was ever to move on.

 _I must find somebody else who suits him better,_ she thought, with grim determination. _If such a lady exists anywhere in all creation, I have not met her yet._ Lizzy had indulged in an idle daydream that Mary might have suited him well, but now that her younger sister was engaged to be married to Colonel Fitzwilliam, which union Lizzy very heartily approved of, she would be forced to search elsewhere for a suitable future Mrs Collins. That he had already left Kent once in search of a bride did not bode well for her success over the next few weeks, but nonetheless Lizzy would not allow her spirits to dim. To admit defeat would be to embrace the future her mother had laid out for her and that, Elizabeth could not, would not do.

"Will you be alright?" Jane asked, softly. She had been watching Elizabeth carefully, and Lizzy had no doubt that some indication of her true feelings had been playing very plainly across her features.

"I shall survive it, do not fear!" Lizzy said, with a cheerful smile. "Besides, I shall be intrigued indeed to visit Rosings and see how Lady Catherine de Bourgh's elegant home lives up to our cousin's extravagant description."

"And to witness her interaction with her nephew, I imagine," Jane said, sagely. "Did Mr Darcy say he intended to accompany the Colonel?"

"I believe there was some suggestion he might," Lizzy said, with a philosophical shrug that did not deceive Jane half as well as she thought. _How strange that my saving grace in the next three weeks should be the presence of Mr Darcy in our party!_ The irony of the thought was not loss on her, for despite taking a near instantaneous dislike to the man, their oft being thrown together by their common companions, even more so now that her sister was pledged to marry his cousin, had begun to soften Elizabeth's feelings towards Mr Darcy. "At least with him there I shall not want for sensible conversation."

"Mr Darcy offers conversation now?" Jane's eyes sparkled. "Goodness, how times have changed."

"Do not tease, Jane, for I am in no mood for it. And anyway, even you must admit Mr Darcy has become an altogether more outgoing ad interesting version of himself since Colonel Fitzwilliam's arrival."

"Very true," Jane conceded. "I still think you were rather too harsh to him to begin with. Not everyone is as outgoing as you, Lizzy, and for some people it just takes a little time to get to know one another to the point that they feel able to speak freely."

"I still would not compare the two cousins in terms of their natures: Colonel Fitzwilliam is a good deal friendlier than his cousin, but if my choice is between Mr Collins and Mr Darcy for conversation, I need not tell you who I would prefer." Lizzy sighed, and looked back towards her cases, not noticing the delighted smile that passed quickly over Jane's face before being swallowed in an attitude of indifference.

"At least you will be among friends. And I should be interested to know of the third cousin, Anne, I believe her name is. She has hovered like a spectre at the edge of all Colonel Fitzwilliam has said of the party at Rosings, so you must do your best to befriend her, Lizzy, that we may know her better. It will not be difficult, I am sure, for you can make it very easy to love you."

"You suggest that I do not always!" Elizabeth laughed, and batted her eyelashes at her sister. "Which statement I would take offense at, were I not compelled to acknowledge its truth." She gave a last glance over her belongings and threw up her hands. "Well, I am sure I have forgotten half of all I should want, but this will do for now." She hesitated, lifting her hand to her lips. "Do you suppose Rosings has anything approaching a library? That is, a library of books I might want to read?" Her eyes twinkled. "I shall go mad without a good book."

"Nonsense!" Jane said, with a spirited grin. "You shall be so busy conversing with Mr Darcy I dare say you will not have even a spare moment to look at something as pedestrian as a book!"

Lizzy aimed a pillow at her, but Jane dodged so that the offending article flew threw the open doorway and landed with a thump at Mrs Bennet's feet, who frowned at it, and lifted her gaze to her daughters, but had the grace, at that particular moment, to stay silent.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you sure it is no imposition to Aunt Catherine, my accompanying you to Rosings?" Darcy asked, as he and Richard sat in the study at Netherfield, shortly before they prepared to leave for Kent.

"None at all!" Richard pulled a folded letter from his pocket and smoothed it out on the desk, jabbing at it for emphasis. "See for yourself."

Reluctantly, Darcy cast his eyes over Lady Catherine's short missive. Her elegant penmanship denoted her exacting nature as thoroughly as the words she used.

 _Of course you are most welcome to join us as early as you choose, and we are delighted that dear Fitzwilliam will also be accompanying you._ Darcy was unsure whether she referred to herself in the plural until her next sentence clarified, and he frowned irritably.

 _Anne, in particular, is most eager to see her cousin again, and sends both of you her most affectionate greetings…_

He sincerely doubted Anne was even aware of being thus mentioned n her mother's correspondence, but he did not doubt that she would be genuinely happy to see both of her cousins again, once they settled at Rosings. He scanned the rest of the letter, but Lady Catherine was merely interested to learn more about Colonel Fitzwilliam's young bride to be, professing her welcome to the young lady she as yet only knew by name. _Mary Bennet. I wonder if she is any relation to Sir Reginald Bennet…_ Darcy snorted. He doubted very much that there was any connection between the two families, but it would soothe Lady Catherine's sensibilities to believe for as long as she might that her nephew was at least aligning himself with the daughter of a Baronet.

"You see not much is changed at Rosigns." Richard sank comfortably into a chair opposite Darcy, and turned to stare out of the window. "Still, it will be good to stay there a while. We might have the banns read there, and marry…" He trailed off, and hesitated so long before speaking again that Darcy was forced to lift his gaze. "Even if that means Mr Collins performing the ceremony." Darcy almost laughed at the morose expression that had settled over his cousin's face, and had the reason for Richard's dismay not been Mr Collins, who was at present something of a thorn in Darcy's own side, he might have made some comment. Instead, he merely murmured his agreement, and the two men lapsed into comfortable silence.

A knock at the study door disturbed them, and it was opened to admit Charles Bingley, who laughed to see the cousins sitting in silence.

"Goodness me, who died?" he asked, his bright smile falling a little as he wondered at the truth of his words. "Nobody has, have they?"

"Not that I'm aware of!" Richard said, cheerfully. "We are just taking a moment to enjoy the peace and quiet here at Netherfield before we bid it farewell."

"Quite!" Charles smiled. "Well it shall be even quieter without you here." He darted a glance over his shoulder to where Mrs Hurst's shrill voice could be heard over the faint strains of Caroline's piano playing. "I say, chaps, you'll not stay away too long, will you?"

He looked so lost that Darcy got to his feet. Crossing the room, he laid a hand on Charles' shoulder.

"You cannot be afraid of being left alone with your sisters Charles! They are _your_ sisters."

Distress settled over his friend's usually amiable face.

"Exactly my point! My friend, if you think them difficult when you are here…" He trailed off, at length giving a philosophical shrug. "Oh well, I shall be forced to pull rank if they prove too challenging. Netherfield is my home, after all, and -"

"And nothing!" Richard said, from his seat. "They can be content with it, or remove. One sister has her own home and a husband who would, I wager, be happier in it. And the other has no reason to complain." He could apparently not resist darting his eyes to Darcy's at the mention of Caroline, and Darcy grimaced. She still had not forgive him for agreeing to depart with his cousin, and so soon. She had spent the first day or two being eminently agreeable, not only to Darcy but to Richard as well, and Darcy dared to think she might be angling for an invitation to join them. She had even suggested as much, indicating her desire for Charles - and by extension herself - to accompany them to Kent and thus separate her brother from Jane Bennet's tender clutches. Darcy had reminded her, drily, that Colonel Fitzwilliam was planning to wed Miss Mary, and not only that but Miss Elizabeth Bennet was also due to find herself in Kent for the period. That had silenced Caroline's campaign, and indeed Caroline herself, for she had resorted to merely shooting doleful looks in his direction, whenever she believed him ignorant of her.

"Quite!" Charles said, gaining confidence as he did so. "It is my home, after all." He beamed. "Only…don't be gone too long, will you?"

"Three weeks," Darcy agreed. "Then I shall leave Richard to his happiness and return. You intend staying here for Christmas?"

"Yes." Charles nodded. "Most likely." He paused. "Probably. I hope to." He sighed. "Caroline has already begun to speak of London, but I wager I can convince her to remain. The country is far preferable to the ton at Christmas."

"Indeed it is!" Richard said, hauling himself to his feet. "And this country far preferable to Kent, at least for some of us."

He nodded towards the window.

"I see the carriage is ready. Come along, Darcy, and we'll say our goodbyes."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N - Thank you so much for all the reads and comments so far, I hope you are enjoying the beginnings of this new story._

 _Apologies, too, for any typos that slip through - I've done an edit but apparently not been thorough enough as I keep finding new ones! Hopefully nothing too jarring for you as readers. Apologies._

 _Enjoy! xx_

* * *

Mary ran her fingers gently over the surface of the Netherfield piano, picking out a meditative scale. Everything had changed so quickly and she wasn't sure she was entirely happy to be leaving the only home she had ever known to embark on something so entirely new.

 _Marriage_. She still thrilled at the word, for she had spent most of her youth in full knowledge of the fact that she might never marry. Mrs Bennet, never blessed with tact, had remarked on Mary's plainness more than once, and that, combined with her quiet, shy nature had made marriage unlikely without considerable effort, which Mary had never been inclined to make. It was something of a shock to her, still, that Colonel Fitzwilliam had stumbled into her life one quiet day just a few weeks earlier and turned her world on its head. Now she, not Jane, would marry first. She, not Lydia, had secured a husband with a rank, and she who would be the first of all the sisters to leave Longbourn.

She ended the scale before reaching the octave, leaving the unfinished seventh hanging in the air.

"Here you are!" Elizabeth's voice startled her from the door way and Mary turned, surprised out of her reverie.

"Are you ready? It's almost time, and the carriage shall be here soon."

Mary took one last wistful glance towards the piano, unsure she could explain her feelings to her sister, even if she was brave enough to try. Even so, Lizzy seemed to understand her conflicted emotions without her saying a word.

"It's only a visit, Mary, dear! And we shall see everyone again soon when they come to Kent for the wedding. You are not having second thoughts?" An expression of anxiety darkened Elizabeth's features into a frown.

"No," Mary reassured her. "Not at all." It was true: with as much apprehension as she felt about leaving her home and embarking on this new chapter, she did not for a moment regret answering "yes" to Colonel Fitzwilliam's proposal. He was the bravest, kindest man she had ever met, and even if he had not cared for her first, had not won her heart by noticing her when nobody else did, Mary was quite sure she would have grown to love him for his goodness of character, his wit and god humour. No, she was not doubting her decision.

"Have you and Colonel Fitzwilliam spoken of where you might make a home?" Elizabeth asked, linking her arm through Mary's and tugging her gently towards the door.

Mary shook her head.

"He has family in the north, so we will go there after the wedding."

Here, her heart sank. There was to be an endless round of visiting family, it seemed to her. She was never at ease meeting new people, and the thought of having to do so as somebody's wife was even more concerning to her. She was bound to say or do something wrong and embarrass herself or, worse, Colonel Fitzwilliam, in front of his family.

"You are worrying," Lizzy observed with a smirk. "I can tell from your face. You mustn't fret, Mary! Colonel Fitzwilliam asked you to marry him because he loves you. I hardly think you can be anything other than complete happy."

This lifted Mary's spirits, despite the melancholy edge to her sister's voice. Before she could press Elizabeth on the matter, however, they heard the sound of the carriage arriving in the drive, and Jane's voice summoned them to hurry.

"Good morning!" Mary heard Richard's voice long before she saw him, and his comfortable tone put her instantly more at ease. He was so much more confident than she, but instead of unnerving her it gave her a little peace. He would surely handle any speaking that needed doing, and not leave her too much alone with his family. Her frown broke into a smile when they reached the corridor, and his eyes landed on her.

"Mary, dear, are you ready? We can delay an hour if you prefer to say a few more goodbyes." His eyes crinkled with humour. "I can only apologise that our carriage is not big enough to bring your piano with you but assure you the instrument at Rosings will more than make up for it. My aunt writes to tell me she is delighted you are musical, and looks forward to hearing you play."

Mary's nerves must have been apparent, because Richard hurried to appease them.

"I promise you will not have to strike one note if you do not wish it, and certainly not until you are rested. Come, are you ready to go now?"

Mary nodded that she was, and let go of Elizabeth's arm to take the hand that he held out to her, pausing only to bid farewell to her mother and father and Jane. Kitty and Lydia were nowhere to be found, but Mary could not bring herself to miss saying goodbye to her two youngest sisters. They had never been close, although both Lydia and Kitty had scarcely ceased from expressing, time after time, their abject shock that it was Mary who was to be married. No, she did not need her sisters' teasing to add to her already fractured nerves.

A shadow fell over the hallway, and Mary glanced up in time to see Mr Darcy appear, some steps behind his cousin, and wearing an expression of resignation.

"Miss Elizabeth, is there anything else you wish to bring to Rosings for the visit?" he asked, his voice a mask of polite indifference.

"You are very kind, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth said, with a courteous smile. "But all of my belongings are packed with Mary's, and being loaded into the carriage even as we speak."

His instinctive reaction had not gone unnoticed by Elizabeth, who was briefly her old self once more.

"You need not worry, sir, I use the term "loaded" figuratively only. You may be surprised to see how light my sister and I manage to travel, even with the consideration of Mary's trousseau."

"I made no comment one way or another," Mr Darcy said, with a grimace. Turning abruptly to his cousin, he continued, "Are you reedy, Richard?"

Mary and Elizabeth both were swept into a whirlwind of embraces and farewells, with Mrs Bennet actually sacrificing her campaign of silence with Elizabeth long enough to press her eldest daughter into an embrace that Elizabeth did not entirely despair of. A last farewell, a last wave, and the four young people were packed into their carriage, which rolled gently into motion.

"And so, to Kent!" Richard said, meeting Mary's eyes and beaming. "I do hope you will like it, dear. And you, Miss Elizabeth." He turned to Darcy, his tone teasing. "What say you, cousin? Is Rosings ready for not one but two Bennet sisters?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Now, ladies, if you would be kind enough to look to your left, this is the very first glimpse we might have of Rosings."

Elizabeth and Mary obediently did as Colonel Fitzwilliam instructed, and were rewarded by the sight of an elegant looking house, nestled in the centre of expansive grounds. Absently, Lizzy wondered just how much work went into ensuring the lawns were such a healthy shade of green, and not a single plant appeared out of place. She smiled, ruefully, thinking of the home they had left behind them, whose gardens, though pleasant, wren nowhere near as manicured as Rosings appeared to be from this first glance.

"And how long has your aunt lived here, Mr Darcy?"

Elizabeth directed her question at their second gentleman companion, for she had not been oblivious to the fact that whilst Colonel Fitzwilliam happily conversed throughout their journey on points of interest to the ladies, pausing to alert them to particular sights and places he thought worthy of their notice, Mr Darcy had been largely silent. In fact, he had spent a great deal of the journey with his gaze averted from them, fixed on the moving scenery beyond the carriage window. _Like a man en route to an execution,_ Lizzy had thought, with a suppressed grin. _His looks reflect, almost exactly, what I should be feeling, were it not for Colonel Fitzwilliam's cheerful attempts at distraction. I know well why I feel so reluctant to be approaching Rosings: it is carefully contained in one single figure, who I have been blessed with two days' respite from._ At Mr Collins' insistence on returning to Kent ahead of their party, Lizzy had drawn a sigh of relief, yet her contentment had been short-lived, for although accompanying Mary to Rosings meant escaping Mrs Bennet's wrath, it also meant being thrust once more into a circle with her cousin. Still, Lizzy was determined to survive the trial, and felt rather better equipped to refuse Mr Collins again, should he be stupid enough to propose despite knowing her abject loathing for him, with a few friends for support rather than her mother's interfering attentions. Still, now that she was faced with the knowledge they would reach their destination in just a few moments more, her courage began to falter. She kept her feelings under guard, but only just. What, then, was Mr Darcy's excuse for looking so unhappy to reach Kent?

"She has lived in Rosings all her married life," Mr Darcy said, shortly. "But the house was known to her since she was a child. I am sure she will delight in telling you of its history, Miss Elizabeth, if you wish to ask her."

There was something that might have been a glimmer of amusement in Darcy's eyes, but when Lizzy opened her moth to press him on it, the look vanished, and he was himself once more. Himself, and silent. Lizzy turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, and noted a momentary look of frustration he turned towards his cousin.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, you are very kind to allow me to accompany my sister on this visit."

"Kind, nothing!" Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. "I knew Mary would want for a companion, and I rather fancy you will make an interesting addition to my aunt's dining table. What do you think, Darcy, will Miss Elizabeth hold her own against the tenacity of the de Bourgh inquisition?"

Elizabeth laughed, but felt a tiny pin-prick of anxiety at what lay before them. Mary's fears were still more apparent, and she appeared even paler than usual, until Lizzy pinched her on the arm. Mary looked up at her, and Lizzy smiled, silently willing her to relax. _Never fear, Mary. I am sure she cannot be a patch on mother, and we both survived almost two decades in her house unscathed._ She sighed. _Relatively unscathed._

"Are you tired, Miss Elizabeth?"

It took Lizzy a moment to realise it was Mr Darcy and not his cousin who addressed her, and so her response came rather more flustered than she intended.

"Oh, no." She smiled. "Not really. It has been such a pleasant journey."

"If only the same could be said of the company!" Richard said, drolly. He nudged his cousin with his elbow, and turned back to Mary, intent on explaining some point of the local geography to her, as the carriage drew still nearer to Rosings.

"My cousin feels that silence must always be filled," Mr Darcy remarked, with a grimace. "He does not perceive any value in quiet, particularly in preparation for a trial."

"And what trial do you face?" Lizzy asked, taking his comment for humour, at first. When he did not return her smile, but frowned still more sternly, she reconsidered her supposition. "Forgive me, I did not realise you accompanied us under duress."

"Not duress," he clarified. "It is my duty to call on my aunt, a duty I have neglected more than I ought to have of late." He smiled, shortly. "My cousin seeks to rectify the matter, and as he wished to travel with a party, encouraged me to join you." His face was all seriousness once more. "I am, of course, glad to be of any service I can to your sister, on the occasion of their engagement. Or -" his voice dropped, so low that Elizabeth had to stoop a little nearer to catch his words. "Or to you, Miss Elizabeth. I hope - I hope you will not hesitate to come to me for assistance, should you - were you to ever require it."

Lizzy had the impression it had cost him a great deal to speak these few short words, and had read a fervency in their uttering that surprised her. Their eyes met, and she felt a flash of understanding. _He refers to Mr Collins, I am sure of it!_ Lizzy flushed with embarrassment, heat seeping into her cheeks. _Does he disapprove of me as well?_ She recalled the scolding she had received from Charlotte - her dear friend Charlotte! - who had so pointedly and pragmatically taken Mr Collins' part in the dilemma, and prompted Lizzy to accept his offer, for her family's sake if not for her own. Surely Mr Darcy was of a like mind, for she doubted he would ever begin to understand her feeling that one ought to marry for love, or at the very least friendship. It was mercenary to think only of money, of security, and whilst she did not think of herself as so practical a person, she could hardly imagine the same true for the gentleman seated across from her.

"You are very kind, Mr Darcy," she said, quietly. "But I cannot imagine myself in need of any assistance you might offer."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N - Thank you so much for all the reads and reviews! More chapters this week. Enjoy! x_

* * *

"Richard!" Lady Catherine de Bourgh's greeting was more of a squawk than a welcome, but Richard knew when a summons required a response, and if ever one did, it was this.

"Aunt Catherine!" He rushed forward, with a polite bow that was immediately dismissed by his elevated aunt, who stood two feet shorter than him and easily twice as wide. "How do you fare, Aunt?"

"I would fare a good deal better if you kept to the time you promised." Lady Catherine shot a scathing glance at him, before nodding towards the clock on the mantel. "You are an hour later than I expected you. We have been waiting all that time, never knowing if you were merely delayed or if some accident had befallen you!"

"We can only apologise -" Richard began, glancing over his shoulder to see how the rest of his party reacted to Lady Catherine's greeting. Before he had chance to formulate an excuse, Darcy stepped forward.

"You must recall, Aunt, that we were travelling with guests. You could hardly expect two young ladies to travel so quickly as two gentlemen. Forgive us for causing you concern, but I assure you it was merely an attempt to ensure our entire party travelled as comfortably as possible."

Richard felt a flare of anxiety, worried that Darcy's comment would do nothing but transfer their aunt's ire from her nephews to their guests. Fortunately, his cousin apparently understood their aunt better than he, because at the mention of the young ladies, Lady Catherine's frown eased.

"And are they now to be left standing awkwardly in the doorway?" She lifted her chin. "Introduce us, Richard. Which one of you is Mary Bennet?"

"I - I am, Lady Catherine."

Mary had gone white, but nonetheless stepped forward with all the courage she could muster. Richard felt a flash of affection for his young bride, for facing a foe so bravely, when she clearly wished to be anywhere other than where she was.

"Well, come closer, dear, that I may speak to you without shouting across the room." She glared at Richard. "Fetch a chair, and allow the poor girl to sit down, Richard."

Swallowing a grin, Richard did as he was instructed, and gestured to Mary to sit near to Lady Catherine. After a moment, Darcy half-heartedly mirrored his cousin's movements, and Elizabeth cautiously accepted the seat.

"So, you are the young lady who has captured my nephew's heart." Lady Catherine was regarding Mary carefully, over her eye-glasses, but there was the hint of a smile about her features, so Richard had the suspicion that she was not unhappy with what she saw. "I confess, I did not anticipate him deciding so suddenly to marry." She arched an eyebrow. "And are you an accomplished young lady? Do you sing?"

"A little," Mary began, darting a glance over to Elizabeth.

"Mary is an accomplished pianist, Aunt," Richard said, affectionately. "In fact, it was in playing music that I first met her, and scared the poor girl half to death."

"Oh?"

"The Bennets are neighbours of Darcy's friend, Charles Bingley." Richard clarified. "And so our paths crossed many times."

"I see." Lady Catherine turned towards Elizabeth. "And you are -?"

"My sister," Mary said. "Elizabeth."

A muscle tightened in Lady Catherine's jaw, and Richard felt the urge to laugh, which he quickly and expertly quelled. She might be unreadable to many, but Richard fancied he could imagine plainly what was occurring in Lady Catherine's Machiavellian brain. One young lady betrothed to the nephew she herself had no plans for was perfectly acceptable. A little disappointing, certainly, that she was not an eldest daughter from a known family, and lacking in a dowry, but neat and accomplished enough that that might be overlooked. Richard was, after all, merely a Colonel and could hardly expect more. That this young lady possessed a sister, and a sister who had been neighbour to her other nephew for some time, well that might prove to be a cause for concern.

"You are married?" she queried.

Elizabeth coloured slightly, and shook her head.

"Elizabeth…" Lady Catherine chewed thoughtfully over the name, before her eyes lit up. "Of course. You are to wed my curate, Mr Collins. I recall the name now."

Elizabeth blanched, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the party.

"Actually -" she began.

"Nothing is settled at present, Aunt." Richard said, smoothly. "I rather fear that Mr Collins has spoken out of turn if that is the impression he has give you."

"You suggest my curate is less than truthful?" Lady Catherine asked, archly.

"Not untruthful, merely mistaken."

"I find it hard to believe that a gentleman could be mistaken over whether he is to be married or not." Lady Catherine sniffed. "Surely there are but two answers a young lady might give to the question of marriage." She peered over her spectacles at Elizabeth. "And if that lady is without a great many distinguishments or prospects, I would venture to suggest there is but _one_ answer."

Elizabeth coloured, and Richard exchanged a glance with his cousin. Darcy, evidently fearing the same explosion from Elizabeth that Richard did, forestalled it expertly by addressing Lady Catherine himself.

"I am surprised Anne is not with you, Aunt," he said, pretending not to notice the way Lady Catherine's eyes lit up at the mention of her daughter by this gentleman in particular.

"I felt sure you would notice her absence, Fitzwilliam," she said, warming to the topic. "Alas, she has been visiting a friend this afternoon. I tried to insist on her staying, in order that we might both greet you upon your arrival, but my dear daughter would not be persuaded." She smiled, indulgently. "You know how affectionate young ladies are. This particular friend of hers has been lately unwell, and Anne, having suffered so often herself with ill-health, would not be kept from her side a moment longer." Lady Catherine lifted her gaze first to Elizabeth's, and then to Marys'. "She is the new Lady Dalrymple, you know, and it is so pleasant when connections of such high standing become not only acquaintances but true friends, that I did not wish to discourage my dear Anne from visiting."

Richard refrained from rolling his eyes, sure that this would not be the only time they might hear of Anne's friend _Lady Dalrymple_ during their stay. His aunt was fond of name-dropping, and doubtless felt that to Mary and Elizabeth, any name would be doubly worthy of note.

"She will return to join us for dinner," Lady Catherine said. "And I have invited Mr Collins as well, as our shared acquaintance." She turned to Elizabeth, the warmth sliding from her voice. "I trust that will not be problematic for his cousins?"


	6. Chapter 6

Elizabeth gazed around the interior of the bedroom that had been given to her during her stay at Rosings. She had expected to be sharing with Mary and was in fact a little disappointed to be housed in wildly different parts of the house. When she had remarked, out of surprise rather than to make any particular judgment, that she had expected the sisters would be sharing, and not wanting to put the household to any extra work in providing an extra room, Lady Catherine had chosen to respond.

"Do not you think that we have rooms to spare? I assure you, Miss Bennet, we have plenty of space to house any number of guests my nephews choose to invite to stay here, you needn't be forced to share with anybody else, as you might have to at your own home."

Lizzy had found the comment amusing, although she had managed to look suitably chastened whilst within sight of Lady Catherine.

She flopped back on the bed, staring up at the curtains, and wondered how it was that she had been at Rosing's scarcely more than a few hours and already appeared to have alienated its owner. At least poor Mary was faring rather better. Elizabeth had admired the way her sister had ably answered every question Lady Catherine had thrown at her, before promising to play for them that evening, if it would please Lady Catherine to hear her. This was agreed upon as a fine idea, and they had fallen to discussing music, until Mr Darcy had cleared his throat and suggested that perhaps the ladies might wish to lie down for an hour before their evening meal, after the stress of their journey.

Lizzy had been unable to resist shooting him a grateful glance, and escaped, only to realise she was not in the least bit tired and instead longed for some occupation. A glance out of the window confirmed her suspicions that it had begun to rain, thus a walk was out of the question. She might have gone in spite of the weather, had she been at home, but she could not help but imagine what Lady Catherine's response would be to such behaviour, and determined to do nothing else to offend their host, at least between now and their evening meal, if she could help it.

Rolling up to a seated position, Lizzy consulted her belongings, wishing she had brought another book with her. What she had was unappealing to her at that moment, and she ached for something new to read.

 _Surely there must be a library in a house as big as this?_ She had had the thought scarcely before she reached for the door handle, easing it open and creeping into the corridor. The house was silent, as far as she could tell, and she rejoiced in the opportunity to explore, on tip-toe, and locate the library without need of an escort. She progressed slowly down the corridor, careful not to make any noise that might alert her neighbours that she was not only not resting, but actively exploring. With wide eyes, Lizzy took in the beautiful art adorning the walls, admiring the elegant furniture that seemed placed _just so_ and acknowledged that Lady Catherine de Bourgh was blessed with taste as well as her fortune. Lizzy was ashamed to confess she had expected rather too much finery, as if to reassure her guests of her possessing it, but this was understated and perfectly suited the space it occupied. Lizzy paused before a painting, sensing a familiarity about its subject. The young woman was not Lady Catherine, although they certainly looked alike. Her face was kinder. This could not be the aforementioned Anne, could it? Lizzy tilted her head to one side, wondering if she and the young woman might succeed at becoming friends, despite Lizzy's propensity to offend her mother.

Behind her, a gentleman cleared his throat, and Elizabeth startled, spinning around to find herself face to face with Mr Darcy.

"Miss Bennet." He bowed. "You are well rested?"

"Y-yes," Lizzy stammered. "Quite well. I merely wished -"

"It is a nice picture, isn't it?" He nodded towards the portrait, sweeping aside the apologies Lizzy could already feel forming on her lips.

"Beautiful," she agreed. "I wonder who the subject is. I fancy a likeness between it and Lady Catherine. Is this your cousin?"

A reflexive smile crept up onto Mr Darcy's face, and he shook his head.

"I might permit you another guess. It is not Anne, nor her mother."

Lizzy turned back to the painting, wondering who else this young woman might be. Surely she meant enough to Lady Catherine to warrant a permanent display. Three was something about the light in the lady's eyes that struck Lizzy as eminently familiar, and she turned back to Mr Darcy.

"This is your -"

"My mother," he confirmed. "Lady Anne Darcy." He frowned. "Lady Anne _Fitzwilliam_ she was, when this was commissioned." He sighed, and Lizzy felt a flare of sympathy. He was still a young man, and to have lost both his parents seemed a cruel blow to have been dealt.

"She is very beautiful."

Darcy nodded.

"My sister is like her to look at, and in her character. She was always very kind, very welcoming to others." He stiffened. "I am more like my father in that respect."

Lizzy smiled, but said nothing. The same was true of her. She was so unlike Mrs Bennet that she often found it impossible to conceive that they were so closely related. Of her parents she was most like her father, and it was perhaps for this reason that she felt so betrayed by Mr Bennet's siding with his wife in the affair of Elizabeth's betrothal. Something of her thoughts must have settled over her features, because Mr Darcy was prompted to speak again.

"Perhaps - perhaps we might walk together, Miss Elizabeth, if you are not too tired. I know this house almost as well as I know my own, and might be able to offer you a little of its history." His lips quirked. "I cannot promise amusing tales of daring and disaster as fall so easily from my cousin's lips, but I might explain who certain people are, or the history of a room, should you wish to hear it.

Lizzy scarcely hesitated a moment.

"That would be very kind of you, Mr Darcy, but I do not wish to put you to any trouble. I am sure you have occupations of your own to attend to."

"It is no trouble, Miss Elizabeth." Darcy smiled, and Lizzy felt herself returning it. "No trouble at all."


	7. Chapter 7

"…this corridor has hardly changed since I was a child. It receives the most traffic, and so Aunt Catherine wisely keeps it free of all but the smallest ornament." Darcy gestured towards a solid end-table and the one portrait of his uncle that remained on permanent display, a memorial to her husband that Lady Catherine ensured every guest would pass and appreciate.

He was amazed at how much he had enjoyed their short tour of Rosings. Elizabeth had been wonderful company, displaying jus the right amount of interest in all that he wished to show her. He had feared, briefly, that she might find the pastime dull, but she had questioned him with interest about the house's former occupants, and his own memories of visiting as a child, so that he spoke quite freely and unselfconsciously to her. He had even succeeded in winning a few of those smiles he had come to look for in Elizabeth's features and once, when he recounted a tale that ended with both he and a friend - it had been Wickham, but for the purposes of his story, his childhood companion remained nameless - ended up in the lake that could be seen from the window of a certain study. He recalled his uncle's hammering on the window and enquiring upon whether they intended on tackling Poseidon before or after taking tea, and would they like his assistance. He smiled, faintly, at the memory. His uncle had been as friendly as his aunt was proud, and in that instance, he missed him, wishing Elizabeth might have had the chance to meet him, just once.

"And here, you see, we reach the parlour once more." He opened the door with a flourish, anticipating by its silence that it was empty.

"Oh!" An exclamation was followed by an embarrassed feminine laugh, and Darcy recognised his cousin, Anne, hurriedly stuff something into her reticule and stand. "William!" she exclaimed, happily. "And -" She turned a curious glance towards his companion.

"Elizabeth - Miss Elizabeth Bennet," he said, quickly. "Forgive us, cousin, I did not realise you were here." He nodded, stiffly, and the gesture was returned in a polite curtsey from Anne towards her guests.

"Nor I you!" She smiled, and turned towards Elizabeth. "Miss Bennet, I am so pleased to make your acquaintance. I must apologise for being absent on your arrival this afternoon."

"Not at all," Elizabeth said, warmly. "I do hope your friend is faring rather better after your visit?"

"My…friend?" Anne frowned.

"Aunt Catherine said you were visiting a friend who was unfortunately under the weather," Darcy interposed. "Lady Dalrymple? I hope that she was cheered by your presence, cousin."

"Oh." Anne's frown faded, but did not entirely disappear. "Yes, she is quite well."

"That is good news," Elizabeth said, after a moment's awkward silence fell over the room. "It can be of such concern when those one cares for suffer."

"Indeed." Anne glanced behind them towards the door, and Darcy took her cue.

"I wonder if you would care to join us for tea, cousin? I believe there is still some time before dinner, and I wonder that your afternoon's visit might not have left you fatigued.

"No -" Anne stammered. "That is, yes," she smiled, ruefully. "In fact I am quite tired. I hope you will not be unduly offended if I refuse, in this instance, and take to my room for an hour's rest before this evening." She glanced towards Elizabeth. "Do, please, forgive me my rudeness, Miss Bennet. I hope we might be properly introduced and converse a little more freely this evening."

With one last curtsey, Anne excused herself and Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves alone, but for a servant, who Darcy summoned to request a small tea tray be brought for them.

"I hope your cousin is herself quite well!" Elizabeth said, as she glanced at the contents of a small shelf on one wall. "I do not like to think that our presence forced her to leave her sanctuary." Her eyes sparkled, and Darcy smiled.

"Three are plenty of rooms that might make her a better one, if her intention was truly to remain undiscovered," he said, lightly. "I half expected Richard - Colonel Fitzwilliam - to be in here, for he was at a loss for occupation when I left him."

"Perhaps he has found some, at last," Elizabeth said, running her fingertip along the spines of a small collection of books that sat, undisturbed, in a corner. Her voice was tinged with distraction, and Darcy was eager to know which title had caught her attention. At last he could bear it no longer, and asked.

"Do you see any titles you recognise?"

Elizabeth jerked her head up, and smiled, guiltily, at him.

"You have caught me out!" she said, stepping away from the books, and closer to the centre of the room, where he was standing. Folding her arms across her front, she lifted her shoulders in surrender. "I think you can tell a lot about a person by the books they choose to read."

"Indeed?" Darcy arched an eyebrow. "And what insights have you gained to my aunt?"

"She is fond of romances." Elizabeth's eyes shone wickedly.

"Aunt Catherine?" Darcy snorted.

"Perhaps these belong to her daughter, then," Elizabeth said. "I do not criticise the collection: there are a few titles among it that I have read and enjoyed."

"You like to read, Miss Elizabeth." Darcy had intended it for a question, but his words came out flat, and she took them for a statement of fact.

"You do not approve, Mr Darcy?"

"On the contrary, I think it encouraging when a young lady seeks to improve her mind with reading." He paused, a sly smile crossing his face. "Depending, of course, on what she chooses to read."

"Ah, you would not, I think, approve of at least one of these titles." She glanced back towards the books, and smiled. "The Mysteries of Udolpho." She grinned wickedly. "It is thrilling, indeed. Murder, intrigue, and such drama!" She clasped her hands in an affectation of despair. "Mr Darcy, such a tale I can barely describe to one as sensible as you. But it entertains us country folk very well."

Their tea arrived, and Darcy took advantage of the activity to compose his response to her comment. They sat in seats close to one another, but at enough distance that Darcy felt safe to pose his question.

"Do you think me dull, Miss Elizabeth?"

This evidently caught Elizabeth off-guard, for she lifted her eyes to his, and for the tiniest moment she looked upset, anxious, perhaps, that he had read a personal slight into her comment.

"I did not say that, Mr Darcy."

"Ah, but you do not deny it." He sighed. "I am not offended, for I confess there is an element of truth in your opinion." He met her gaze and held it, surprised when she did not immediately look away. "But only an element."


	8. Chapter 8

"Richard…?" A feeble voice reached Colonel Fitzwilliam from Lady Catherine's sitting room, and Richard cursed inwardly, slowing his step, and peering around the doorframe.

"I hope I did not disturb you, Aunt?"

He had deliberately walked on tip-toe as he neared her rooms, hoping to pass without notice and thus avoid the interview he felt certain was waiting for him, once she could secure him to herself, without fear of interruption. Alas, he had apparently not succeeded, for a bony hand summoned him forward.

"At my age," she said, haughtily. "Everything is a disturbance. Even one's nephews, despite their best attempts at not being." She smiled, but it was not the picture of affection she intended, and Richard felt the full weight of her criticism. "Now, I wish to speak to you and am glad that we may do so alone, without the distraction of your other guests."

There was a heavy emphasis, intended or otherwise, on "your", and Richard wondered whether she was quite so content to have welcomed Mary and Elizabeth to Rosings as she had claimed. A flare of anger burned in his chest, for he was ready to defend his choice of a bride against whatever criticism his aunt dared to levy against her.

"Tell me, how do you find Fitzwilliam?" Lady Catherine's voice was calm and measured, but Richard detected a note of undisguised interest.

"Find him? Why, he is himself, as usual," Richard replied. "Do not you think?"

"He seems a little distracted," Lady Catherine said. "And I fear, had you not been already planning on visiting Rosings, that he might have found an excuse not to call on us. You know it has been quite some time since he was last here. I fear - I fear he is forming other attachments." Her lips quirked. "Or, rather, others are attempting to form attachments with him."

"Darcy does not form attachments easily," Richard remarked, cheerfully. "So you need not worry about him being entrapped into a marriage he does not wish for, if that is your concern."

" _Fitzwilliam_ ," Lady Catherine said, sternly. "Is too much a gentleman to truly believe women capable of the orchestrations I know only too well."

Richard smiled, but said nothing. _Orchestrations you know, or orchestrations you have yourself attempted?_ he asked his aunt, silently.

"It is perhaps a good thing that it is I who have come to Rosings with a bride in tow and not Darcy, then, is not it?"

Lady Catherine harrumphed, but Richard's bald attempt to change the subject was not entirely unsuccessful.

"Yes. Miss Mary…" She tilted her head first one way, and then another. "She is not who I pictured you finding happiness with, Richard…"

"Oh?" There was a note of challenge he could scarcely keep out of his voice. He did not intend to be disrespectful to his aunt, or to challenge her freely on their very first night under her roof, but equally, he did not intend to listen to her list reasons why he ought not to marry precisely whom he wished to.

"Oh, I do not disapprove of the choice," Lady Catherine said, waving away Richard's concerns with a flick of her wrist. "How can I? We have scarcely met, nor shared two words together." She smiled, and Richard noticed, not for the first time, how cat-like her expression could turn in an instant.

"How well acquainted are you with her sister?"

There was an affectation of calm about his aunt's question that did not deceive Richard for even a moment.

"Miss Elizabeth?" he asked, buying himself time to formulate a reply.

"Is there more than one?" Lady Catherine asked, shortly.

"There are five in total," Richard replied, nonchalantly. He could not resist glancing at his aunt out of the corner of his eye to see the shock register on her face, although it only took her a moment to wrestle her features back into a semblance of disinterest.

"Indeed? Five daughters…" She clucked her tongue. "And none of them married?"

"None married at present," Richard leaned back in his seat, affecting relaxation. "Of course, that will change before long."

"Oh?"

"I shall marry Mary," Ricardo explained, and Lady Catherine's anxiety receded fractionally.

"Of course. Yet, she is not the eldest…" Lady Catherine frowned. "I wonder at their parents' plans, to permit the younger wed before the elder."

"I fancy Jane will marry soon, too. Charles Bingley seems rather taken with her. And Elizabeth…"

"Yes, Elizabeth," Lady Catherine seized on the name. "I was led to believe that a match had been agreed between her and my curate, yet now that I see the lady for myself…" His aunt's lips puckered in distaste. "I cannot speak knowledgeably, of course, for we met but briefly, but..." she paused. "Tell me, Richard, do you think she would make a good curate's wife?"

 _That would depend rather a great deal on the curate, I imagine,_ Richard thought.

"She is certainly amiable," he offered.

"Amiable." Lady Catherine looked as if she did not approve of the word. "I am grateful I have but one daughter to concern myself with." She folded her hands in her lap. "Although I shall not rest easy until she is happily married."

Richard could sense his aunt's wish to discuss her plans to match Anne with Darcy, and decided to take his leave before she could speak further. He would not be involved in orchestrating a marriage between his cousins, and it was not his place to tell his aunt of Darcy's true feelings, not when his friend had yet to fully admit them to himself.

"You are fortunate, indeed, aunt," he said, standing. "Now, if you will excuse me, I wished to try and catch Darcy before he retreats to ready himself for dinner. I am eager to arrange going out for a ride tomorrow, and know he might be pressed to join me, if the weather holds."

He bid his aunt farewell, and hurried for the relative safety of the corridor before she had chance to respond.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N - I'm so sorry for all the typos thus far. Believe it or not, I had done a quick edit of all the chapters, but I've gone back through from the stat over the past couple of days and cringed at how many odd words I'd missed. Whoops! Hoping things will be a little better from here on in._

 _It's my birthday today, I'm working this weekend and then it's a bank holiday here in the UK on Monday, so it will likely be a few days before the next chapter - but it is coming, so don't worry! ;) Hope you are all having a lovely end-of-August and here's today's chapter. Enjoy! xx_

* * *

Mary had readied herself for dinner early, yet it had taken her what time remained to check her reflection in the mirror, make an adjustment, check again, adjust again, and pronounce herself done, so that she scarcely had a moment to gather her thoughts before Elizabeth knocked on her chamber door.

"Mary!" Elizabeth beamed at her, pushing the door open. "How pretty you look! Let's go down together. I don't know about you, but I am a little nervous to approach Lady Catherine again alone!"

Mary said nothing, but smiled, grateful that her sister would be by her side. As the two girls descended the stairs, Lizzy pointed out a few of the paintings that lined the walls, explaining who they depicted and what connection they had to Lady Catherine.

"Did you spend your whole afternoon in the library?" Mary marvelled. "Surely you lost hours to all this research!" _And to what end?_ she wondered.

"Not even close!" Elizabeth laughed. "In fact, my plan to locate the library was entirely scuppered by locating one Mr Darcy instead."

"Oh?" Mary watched her sister carefully, for any trace of the affection that Jane had already noticed, but Lizzy was her very own self, if a little pink-cheeked, which Mary put down to the heat of the fires that blazed in every available fireplace.

"I do not doubt he, too, was eager for some occupation, for he volunteered to show me Rosings quite without my meaning him to." She smiled. "I had not imagined him so knowledgeable."

"It is his own family, Lizzy," Mary chided, good-naturedly. "I should think him rather stupid _not_ to know all about them."

"Oh, indeed," Elizabeth agreed. "But on other things, too. I found him to be very intelligent. We conversed quite a while, Mary, so long that I had to hurry to be ready in time!"

Mary said nothing, but smiled, content that in this instance, she was savvier than her sister in affairs of the heart. Now if only she could devise a way to convince Elizabeth of the feelings that were only too plan in that moment to her!

The door to the sitting room stood open, and Colonel Fitzwilliam strode forward to greet them.

"Good evening, ladies!" he said, with a beaming smile. "I trust you are well-rested?"

He glanced at Elizabeth out of politeness, but Mary was touched to see how swiftly and completely his attention switched to her.

"Very well, thank you," she said, suddenly shy. "That is, I am. Elizabeth took to exploring." She elbowed her sister.

"Oh? And what did you discover?"

"That your cousin is at least half as knowledgeable as you are, at least in matters of family history," Elizabeth said, smoothly disentangling her arm from Mary's and dancing ahead of her into the parlour.

Richard's eyebrows lifted, and he looked with interest at Mary.

"Did I miss something?"

"I fancy my sister and your cousin successfully spent an afternoon together without arguing," Mary said, stifling a laugh.

"Wonders never cease!" Richard offered her his arm, and Mary slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Now, we must both be brave, for my aunt is already in fine form."

"She is?" Mary's heart sank.

"Fortunately neither you nor I are the focus of her attention at present." Richard winked, hard. "And once we are, I have a scheme in mind to distract her. Recall the music we purchased for Anne? I was hoping you might be persuaded to play it for us after our meal, so as to introduce her to it, and to introduce everyone else to your skill as a pianist."

Mary's face grew hot.

"Oh, I couldn't!"

"You can, and you must," Richard said, with a firm smile. "Trust me, Mary, once Aunt Catherine hears you play, all other thoughts will be swept aside, and we might all be granted some peace." He winced, but before Mary could question him on the reason for his concern, they drew close enough to the sitting room that she could distinguish from the voices inside what must be the source of his anxiety.

"And cousin Mary!" Mr Collins cried, hurrying forward as they crossed the threshold. "Here you are in Kent, as well! What providence!"

"Providence?" Richard asked, with a hint of an edge to his voice. "Is it so very providential that I should seek to introduce the young lady I intend to marry to my wider family?"

"Oh!" Mr Collins laughed. "Oh, I suppose not. Yes, indeed. Marriage. Well!"

Before he could say any more to either of them, Richard steered past him, seating Mary next to her sister and across from another young lady with a pale complexion rendered still paler by her light blond hair.

"Mary," Richard said softly. "This is my cousin Anne de Bourgh. I was so eager that you might know one another, for I fancy you are not dissimilar."

"My cousin tells me you are musical," Anne said, leaning forward with a warm, welcoming smile that instantly put Mary at ease. "And are you also fond of the piano, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I am fond of it, indeed," Lizzy said. "But alas, all talent in our family is Mary's." She squeezed Mary warmly on the arm. "As I am sure you will hear later, for you are going to play for us, are not you?"

"Apparently," Mary said, with a tentative smile at Anne. "Although I do not like to take your seat."

"Nonsense!" Anne laughed. "It will do me good to listen, instead of play. And I trust you will have pieces I do not know, and vice versa. I must show you my music room later…" she glanced towards her mother, who was at that moment engaged in a whispered conversation with Mr Darcy. "Perhaps tomorrow. Miss Elizabeth, you must come too, for even if you do not play yourself you might help us to decide which pieces are best." Her eyes twinkled with fun. "And if you comport yourself particularly well, we may even engage you to turn our pages!"

All three ladies laughed, which drew the attention of the far corner.

"Dear me, I did not realise it was the fashion for young ladies to be so _amusing_ at present," Lady Catherine observed, with a sniff." Anne, come and sit closer to me. You have hardly even greeted your dear cousin Fitzwilliam properly, and it has been so long since we have seen him."

With a resigned sigh, Anne stood and obediently joined her mother. Sensing a movement at the corner of her eye, Mary glanced up as Mr Collins made a move towards their corner, but before he could reach it, Richard claimed it for his own.

"Now, ladies, I must have your opinion on a matter of utmost importance." He affected a position of confidence, leaning forward, so that only Elizabeth and Mary could hear him. "It concerns buttonholes…"


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N - Thank you for the well wishes and apologies for the hiatus!_

 _Now back to our previously scheduled story ;) xxx_

* * *

"Fitzwilliam, you will accompany me to dinner."

Lady Catherine's command - for it was a command, not a request, that Darcy might consider refusing - was given in such clear, formal tones that it could not fail to be heard by everybody present.

"Certainly, Aunt," he said, standing. "And what of the other ladies?"

"You might see Anne in, as well," she allowed. "Richard will escort Miss Mary, of course, and Mr Collins can, I am quite sure, manage to escort Miss Elizabeth to dinner."

Darcy's heart sank, first at the thought of Elizabeth joining the meal on Mr Colin's arm: indeed, on any man's arm that was not his, then turned over when he thought how trying she would find the evening. He shared a glance with his cousin that communicated their feelings without the need of discussion: _we must strive to offer Elizabeth conversation so that she is not abandoned entirely to the mercy of Mr Collins._ Surely the man would not be foolish enough to embarrass Elizabeth further or attempt to propose again, but Darcy did not think him well practised in etiquette. Surely nothing was beyond possibility for such a man.

Once seated, Darcy recognised the difficulty of the task, for he found himself caught between Lady Catherine and his cousin, and at as great a distance from Elizabeth as could be managed.

"Anne, tell Fitzwilliam what you were speaking to me of this morning at breakfast," Lady Catherine began, as the meal was served and everyone fell to dining.

"This morning?" Anne was startled by the request, that much was plain even to Darcy. "I hardly think William has any interest in my consideration of the weather and its impact on my plans to call upon my friend." She smiled wearily at Darcy, who resisted the urge to laugh. "As you can see, my considerations were unnecessary, and the visit managed."

"I merely meant that your cousin would surely be touched to hear of your concern for your friend. And, of course, that your friend is none other than the young Lady Dalrymple. How well acquainted you have become since her arrival in Kent. We must invite them to dine while you are here, Fitzwilliam. I am sure you would be pleased to make the acquaintance of such a fine, upstanding couple."

"If you wish it, Aunt." Darcy was hardly paying any heed to Lady Catherine's words. His attention had been thoroughly secured by the conversation taking place at the other end of the table, where Mr Collins' whispers towards Elizabeth were ably intercepted by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who proceeded to quiz the man on all matters regarding his church and the plans they were already making for the wedding. Mary, too, sought to engage her sister in conversation, so that he let out a breath he had not quite realised he was holding.

"I did not realise you found our conversation so stifling, Fitzwilliam," Lady Catherine said, in an irritable enough tone that it forced Darcy to attention.

"Not at all!" he said, turning back to her. "Forgive me. I find I am rather fatigued from travelling. Anne, you are looking well. I do hope you were not unduly disturbed by Miss Bennet and I this afternoon?"

"Disturbed? By Miss Bennet?" Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed. "And what, pray, was the reason for this?"

"Oh, it was nothing, Mama," Anne said, with a laugh that sounded somewhat artificial even to Darcy's unpractised ears. "They were taking a tour of Rosings, and happened upon me in the sitting room."

"I rather fear we interrupted your correspondence," Darcy said, apologetically. He noticed, too late, the flash of white that crossed Anne's features, the tiniest shake of the head she deployed in his direction. "Then again," he continued, before Lady Catherine could take hold of the topic. "I might just as easily have been mistaken. I believe it was a book you were engaged in, not writing. I hope we did not spoil your enjoyment too much."

"No." Anne smiled gratefully at him. "Not at all. I was much better served by retiring for an hour to rest."

"Yes, you must rest, Anne," Lady Catherine said. "My poor daughter is so excited to have her cousins with her once more that she is prone to overlook her own needs."

Darcy did not respond to this. He had long fancied that Anne's ill-health, whilst serious, might be far more easily recovered from without Lady Catherine's overbearing efforts to control her.

"Miss Elizabeth is very fond of walking, cousin," he observed, after a few moments. "I am sure she would be very grateful if you would accompany her in touring the grounds. Perhaps tomorrow, should the weather hold?"

"A walk?" Lady Catherine asked, suspiciously. "Why, it is far too cold -"

"I would be delighted," Anne broke in. "You needn't worry, Mama, we shall ensure we are well protected against the wind. There is a lovely folly at the edge of the grounds -"

"I know it well!" Darcy said. "Recall, it was where Richard and I built our fort, and ably saw off the Martin children."

"They are all married now," Anne said, recalling the tenant children that they had played with as children. "Or almost all. George is not, but he -"

"He ran off to the war, foolish boy," Lady Catherine volunteered, stabbing at her meat as if it were the guilty party himself and not a particularly elegantly roast duck.

"He abandoned his family responsibilities to do so! Of course, he was injured, and came home with no fortune, no prospects, and is now a burden to the family he once thought himself too good for."

"That is not kind, Mama," Anne protested. "Captain Martin was very brave, and you recall, William, he wanted to go to sea even when we were children."

"That's true." Darcy nodded. "I am pleased he managed it, though sorry to hear of his misfortune." He glanced towards Colonel Fitzwilliam, wondering how different his life might look now, had he suffered a worse injury in the war. As it was, Darcy heard him wheezing and coughing in the early hours of the morning and deduced that despite his good spirits, his health was still not yet entirely recovered. "I wonder if we might visit Captain Martin, while we are here?"

"You visit him?" Lady Catherine gasped. "And what, pray, would you wish to do that for? What could you possibly have in common with a sailor?"

"We were once friends, Aunt. And his family have been tenants of Rosings for many years. It would not be at all improper to call on his house. I am sure the ladies would like to take a basket, once they hear of his misfortunate."

"Whose misfortune?" Richard asked, noting these last words.

Darcy prompted Anne, and she haltingly told the tale she had so recently recounted to Darcy.

"Poor fellow!" Richard said. "Let us call on him soon. I am sure he will be cheered to see us." His eyes met Mary's. "You do not mind?"

She shook her head, fervently, and Darcy felt his esteem for Richard's bride rise as she spoke.

"No, indeed! We must see if they need anything. Lizzy, do you think his sisters might care for some new hair-ribbons or some nations we might pool from our own belongings?"

"There is a book that, I have it on good authority, might be interesting enough to gentlemen as it is to ladies," Elizabeth volunteered, meeting Darcy's glance with a tentative smile. "Perhaps your friend would like to read it? I know that confinement can be trying for a man, particularly for one so previously accustomed to exercise."

"You are very kind, Miss Elizabeth."

They shared a single moment of silence where it seemed to Darcy as if a great swathe of words they could never manage to say to one another was communicated. The moment was brought to an abrupt end by Lady Catherine's loud, pointed cough.

"I would have invited you sooner, Fitzwilliam, had I the notion that you intended on bringing charity to all the poor families that live in the vicinity of Rosings. Mr Collins," she began, determined to change the subject swiftly and completely. "How do you fare at Hunsford? I trust not much has changed since your return?"

The conversation moved on, and when Darcy looked again at Elizabeth, her attention was on her plate, as she ably avoided Mr Collins' attempts to draw her into his conversation with Lady Catherine.


	11. Chapter 11

The meal seemed interminably long to Elizabeth, trapped as she was next to Mr Collins. With a smile or a look she managed to communicate her thanks, both to Mary and Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had been saviours to her, interceding on her behalf when they fancied she had been too long occupied by her dinner companion in conversation and in need of respite. Even so, Lizzy did not wish to prevent them in speaking to one another _,_ and so with a long, fortifying breath, she addressed Mr Collins directly.

"Tell me about Hunsford, Mr Collins. Is it a pleasant parish?"

His eyes lit up at being thus addressed, and he had said but two words before Elizabeth recognised her mistake. She had presumed to enquire about Hunsford was as safe a topic of conversation as she could invent at such short notice, but alas, he appeared to perceive her interest as inherently personal, and began phrasing his answer so as to portray the small parsonage, church and surrounding area in a most becoming manner to one who might be considering making a life there, with him.

"I only ask," Lizzy interrupted, desperately. "Because I wish to compare it to the parish church at Meryton. We were well acquainted at one point with the curate there, a Mr Humphrey _,_ although he has moved on of late to a new parish."

"Oh?" Mr Collins bristled but was soon content to speak again. "I do think it a shame when a curate cannot be compelled to remain in his parish for a length of time. Indeed, it is a long profession, mine. Lasting into eternity!" He laughed. "I think it beneficial to one's flock, to have the self-same minister for some decades, otherwise where is the stability?"

"I do not doubt you are right," Elizabeth said, politely.

"For my own part, I do not intend on moving from Hunsford for quite some time. Indeed, not until I inherit Longbourn -" He stopped, at least having the grace to acknowledge, too late, the implication of this turn of events. "Although I am sure that will not be for many, many years yet." He cleared his throat. "How is your father, Miss Elizabeth? And your dear Mother? I hope they will not miss you too much…"

"They shall see me again in but three weeks, Mr Collins," Lizzy countered. "When they attend the wedding."

Mr Collins' eyes lit up, and Lizzy felt an irritable need to squash his hopes once more.

"The wedding of my sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam."

"Indeed." His voice was low, and he fixed his attention on straightening the unused cutlery that lay before him. "And might they not have another reason to come to Kent? Some other…" He trailed off.

"I imagine they will enjoy seeing the scenery as much as I do," Elizabeth replied, feigning ignorance of the reason she knew her cousin hinted at. "And I am sure Mama is eager to meet Lady Catherine."

"Of course," Mr Collins nodded sagely. "Such a person. I would be surprised if your parents were not eager to make her acquaintance."

They lapsed into awkward silence, and Mr Collins searched the table with his eyes, evidently looking for a new topic of conversation. Elisabeth steeled herself for yet more commentary on the elegance of the table decorations, the wonder of the pineapple that sat, untouched, on a bed of flowers in the centre. Lizzy chose not to mention the pungent aroma that wafted from the fruit and indicated it had certainly outlived its usefulness as a decoration and a talking point, and ought rather be disposed of.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam," she turned to him. "Have you decided yet where you and Mary will make your home? I wager Kent is lovely, but I wonder if you intend on remaining here after you are wed?"

"We shall go north after the wedding," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, after sharing a brief glance with Mary that lifted Elizabeth's spirits. "My brother is there, and of course, there is also Pemberley."

"Pemberley?" Lizzy glanced automatically at Darcy, and noticed he must have caught the word, too, for his eyes lifted and he looked as if he might rather like to join their conversation.

"Ah, you are acquainted with my cousin's home." Richard smiled. "Yet I do not believe you have seen it."

"I am not familiar with Derbyshire," Lizzy admitted. "Although I hear it is particularly beautiful country."

"It is," Richard remarked, with a happy sigh. "I would not be disappointed to make my home there. Although, of course, that will depend on Mary's wishes." He bowed his head in deference to his partner. "Mary will no doubt wish to be near to her family, and so we may find ourselves returning to Hertfordshire."

"Not necessarily," Mary protested. She shot Elizabeth a particularly unreadable glance. "For you are assuming, Colonel Fitzwilliam, that my family all intend on staying in Hertfordshire."

Before Elizabeth could question her sister on her remark, Mr Collins found a means of inserting himself back into the conversation.

"I do not doubt, Miss Mary, that your sisters are fond of their home. I wish to reassure you, both of you, that no matter what should come to pass between myself and Miss Elizabeth - that is, whatever the future holds -" He paused here, and smiled so widely at Elizabeth that his features seemed to disappear into one another. " _Whatever_ the future holds, Longbourn will always be a refuge for you."


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N - Thank you for all the reads and comments so far - I hope you are enjoying the story :)_

 _Exciting news is that Three Weeks in Kent will be published tomorrow! If you can't wait to read what happens next or want a copy to keep, the ebook will be available in most retailers tomorrow, with the paperback following soon afterwards._

 _For now though, on with the chapter...xx_

* * *

After their meal, everybody removed to the parlour.

"Miss Mary, will you play for us?" Lady Catherine had the grace to speak softly, so that her request of Mary was met with a shy nod, and she gave up her seat next to Elizabeth to cross the wide room towards the piano.

Richard watched her progress, meeting her eyes briefly and smiling in a way he hoped was encouraging. The first few notes she played faltered, but she gained confidence as she played, and Richard risked a glance at his aunt, whose lips curved up ever so slightly at the edges, indicating she approved of Mary's choice of piece, of her playing, of Mary herself.

He let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Mary is quite charming, Richard," Anne whispered, leaning closer to him so as not to disturb anyone else's enjoyment of the music. "I can see why you chose her."

"I was not conscious of there being a choice!" he confessed. "We met purely by chance, but I am minded to consider it the hand of providence."

Darcy snorted, to his left, and Richard smiled, shaking his head in acknowledgement of his cousin's despairing attitude.

"I am well aware of how I sound, cousin, you need not fear me lost to romantic nonsense." He turned back to Anne. "But I trust you will both indulge me, for now, to acknowledge I am truly the happiest I have been in…well, a very long time.

"You deserve it." Anne's face seemed suddenly serious and when Richard looked at her, he thought her eyes seemed momentarily full. She blinked, and the emotion, whatever it was, seemed to pass. "Now, tell me yourself, are you recovered from your illness? Mama has been very concerned. We both have."

Richard was touched at this rumoured affection from his aunt, who was rather less affectionate in person. He fancied, of the two, the true depth of anxiety for his health came from his cousin, but regardless, answered the question with a warm smile.

"I am quite well, though I thank you for your concern." He patted his chest. "There's not a great deal can keep a Fitzwilliam down for long."

"It does us good to have you here," Anne agreed. She angled herself, slightly, to include Darcy in their conversation. "Both of you. And Miss Elizabeth and Mary. What a party you make!"

"I hope it does not unduly disturb you, cousin?" It was Darcy who spoke, and Richard resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Why would the presence of friends and family disturb Anne, when, to his mind, she otherwise longed for company?

"That is the second time you have suggested such a thing," Anne said, with a patient sigh. "If not the third, and you have not yet been here a day. Please, William, do not consider yourself imposing in any way. In fact, I am glad to have you both here, for Mama…" She trailed off, darting a glance up towards Lady Catherine, whose attention was fixed on Mary's performance. "I am sure it is a trial enough for you to be here, William," Anne continued, addressing Darcy. "For Mama is increasingly eager for - for a wedding." She laid a hand on Richard's arm. "At least now she may have her wish, albeit from rather different quarters."

"You mean you do not have your own wedding planned and neglected to mention it?" Richard strove for levity but was surprised to see Anne's lips tighten in something that might have been anger or disappointment. He hurried to change the subject. "I fear my wedding is not the only one Aunt Catherine wishes to invest her time in." He nodded towards Mr Collins, who was angling himself ever closer to Elizabeth. Elizabeth, for her part, kept her attention rapt on Mary and tried not to notice the gentleman seeking to catch her eye.

"Oh! I was under the impression that the marriage was settled." Anne frowned. "Did not Mr Collins propose?"

"I rather believe Miss Bennet refused him," Darcy said, drily. "Alas, he seems not to have taken the hint."

Anne's lips drew together in a line.

"In that case, I fear my mother may aid him in his delusion. She is adamant he must marry, and soon. When he told of a family of cousins, and explained the intricacy of the situation: that marrying one of the Bennet sisters would secure their right to remain at Longbourn, my mother was enthusiastic that this would be his duty not only as a gentleman but a Christian. I am afraid neither one of them entertained the idea that any of the young ladies might not wish to marry him."

"I rather think, if Mr Collins knew Miss Bennet a little better, he might not wish to marry her," Darcy muttered, under his breath.

Anne's mouth fell open in surprise, and Richard shot a sharp glance at his cousin. Darcy might disagree with Elizabeth almost for sport, but did he really think her so dreadful a prospect? His eyes narrowed. _Have I misunderstood you so completely?_ Fortunately, Anne posed the question before Richard could form one.

"Is she so disagreeable?" She had looked at Elizabeth, then back at Darcy with wide eyes. "I confess, I have spoken to her only briefly, but she seems to me eminently pleasant, intelligent -"

"That is precisely my point," Darcy said, shortly. "Miss Elizabeth is clever, far too clever to happily suit a man like Collins. She knows her own mind and will not be easily dictated to. How could he conceive of marrying her, when he is so obviously not her equal? The idea is -" He stopped speaking almost as suddenly as he began, and Richard was amused to see his cousin's cheeks reddening, ever so slightly, so that it might be perceived to be the influence of their proximity to the fire, only, had Richard not understood his cousin so well.

"It is a poor match," he finished, lamely. "I cannot imagine it proving a happy prospect, for either of them. Excuse me, I wish to refill my glass. May I fetch some refreshments for you, cousin?"

The question was only addressed to Anne, but Richard handed his own glass up.

"If you are going, cousin, you might refresh mine. I wish to hear more of your opinion of the second Miss Bennet, Anne. Tell me, what pleasant things have you deduced concerning my Mary in your short acquaintance?"

Richard could scarcely keep the smile from his feature as he referred to Mary with that tiny preposition in front of her name. _Mine. I may rejoice that she will very soon be, for in but three weeks we will be married, and any uncertainty behind us._ He may have listened attentively to Anne's pronouncements, but his eyes lingered on Darcy. If only the same could be said of his cousin. He was convinced, now more than ever, of Darcy's affections for Elizabeth, and still surer that she might return them, if given the slightest encouragement. How, then, to accomplish this?

Mary finished playing with a flourish, and Lady Catherine burst into enthusiastic applause.

"My dear, that was wonderful. Do play another. Anne, dear, was not Miss Mary's playing most elegant indeed?"

"Indeed it was, Mama." Anne stood, and crossed to the piano. "Here, you must look through my music and choose something to play. I am sure to have some pieces that are new to you, and I wish to hear them interpreted by someone with real talent."

Lady Catherine tsked, dismissing Anne's self-deprecating comment.

"You must not confuse my daughter's modesty for truth, Miss Bennet." She turned to Elizabeth. "As you shall see later this evening, my own daughter is also very skilled at the piano." She sighed, wistfully. "I fancy I would have been, also, had I the opportunity to learn in my youth. As it is, I congratulate myself on my very fine _ear_ for music." Her eyes lifted momentarily to Mr Collins before returning to her conversation. "And you, Miss Elizabeth? Do you consider yourself musical?"

"Not in the least!" Elizabeth said, with a laugh. "Although, like you, I appreciate hearing it played, and played well. Mary, do play again. I enjoy hearing you, and truly, this piano is a marvel compared to our old instrument at home."

"You do not have a very fine pianoforte of your own?" Lady Catherine's eyebrows lifted.

"No, indeed! We have not the money for such extravagance." Elizabeth stood, curtseying slightly. "Please excuse me, Lady Catherine. I am rather overheated so close to the fire. I think I will stand a while by the window, if you will permit me."

Lady Catherine nodded, the tiniest of dismissals, and Elizabeth took her leave.

Richard had watched the exchange with interest, and could not help but note the superior glance Lady Catherine exchanged with Mr Collins. Was it possible his aunt, too, did not approve of the match between her curate and Elizabeth Bennet? _Yet even if that is the case,_ he reasoned, with a heavy sigh. _She would surely not approve of a match between Elizabeth and Darcy. How, then, might we ever proceed towards it?_


	13. Chapter 13

Elizabeth squinted out of the window and into the darkness, the hushed voices and lyrical accompaniment fading to a comforting haze in the background.

 _Why did I come here?_ she thought, tracing the light of her reflection in the dark glass. _I certainly do not seem to be helping Mary, as I had intended. In fact, I seem to be doing her more harm than good, in forever finding myself opposed to Lady Catherine!_ Elizabeth sighed. Their hostess certainly did not seem to approve of Elizabeth, although fortunately, her opinion towards Mary seemed sanguine enough, and Elizabeth knew, given the chance, her sweet-natured sister would win her over. Where Mary had before been liable to be prickly, she had softened, almost overnight. Lizzy could not tell whether it was the influence of love on her sister, or whether, in repairing their own fractured relationship, Mary had found a confidence in being herself that left her less likely to find offence where none was intended. She was taking herself less seriously, too, or was it just that Elizabeth gave her enough attention to recognise the humour in her words that had always been there?

A shadow moved in the reflection in the glass, and Elizabeth started, settling when she recognised Mr Darcy's footstep.

"I ought not to turn my back, Mr Darcy, for that is twice you have caught me unaware, and startled me out of my thoughts."

He said nothing, but bowed, by way of apology.

"I hope you are enjoying the evening, Miss Bennet," he remarked, after a pause.

"Enjoying?" Lizzy questioned his choice of word, but glanced over his shoulder towards Mary, who had been joined not only by Anne but by Richard too, and her smile, when she gave it, was a genuine one. "I am happy that my sister is happy."

"I, too, in seeing my cousin so content." Mr Darcy's lips quirked. "Both cousins, for I suppose I must include Anne in my assertion."

"She seems to have taken to Mary straight away." Elizabeth sighed, wistfully. "I am glad, for Mary's sake."

"They are similar, I fancy. And yet, you do not, I hope, feel at odds here?"

There was an unspoken depth to his question, and Elizabeth was surprised to see real feeling in his eyes.

"I…wonder at the wisdom of my coming," she confessed, surprising herself with so candid an answer. Mr Darcy said nothing, allowing her space to speak more, should she choose to, and at that moment, Elizabeth found his reserve encouraging. "It is important to me that Mary feels at home here. She is to be married, and I dearly wish her to be welcomed into Colonel Fitzwilliam's family: into your family!" Lizzy raised her eyebrows. "I fear the same cannot be said of me."

Mr Darcy nodded, slowly.

"My aunt can be…a little caustic at times. You must not take her words to heart, Miss Elizabeth."

"I rather fear she believes me to be what I am not."

"And what is that?" Mr Darcy's lips quirked in amusement.

"About to marry Mr Collin." Lizzy words were scarcely a groan, yet somehow Mr Darcy distinguished them. His amused smile faltered into a frown.

"Oh, do not tell me what I know you must," Lizzy said, reading criticism into his shifted stance. She held up a hand. "You need not list all the reasons why I am foolish to refuse a proposal of marriage. I have heard them already, from my mother, or my youngest sisters, or even my dear friend Charlotte, who points out precisely how short-sighted, how selfish I am being in refusing a _sensible_ match." She could not help but squirm at the word. "Alas, Mr Darcy, I rather fear I am not at all as sensible as I once thought myself. You see, I cannot marry him. I cannot marry where I do not feel affection - yet, no, at present I do not even think that is precisely it. I am a rational creature, sir, do not doubt me. I can well understand that romance outside of novels is not the common way. I can even understand marrying for security or the security of others, but -" She sighed. "Must it mean marrying someone you _dislike?_ Might it not at least be a friend?"

She stopped, then, suddenly recalling where she was and to whom she was speaking.

"Forgive me, Mr Darcy." She dropped in a polite curtsey. "I did not mean to speak so freely, nor of such a topic." Her cheeks flushed with heat that could not be in any way related to the warmth of the room, for they were standing in quite the coolest corner of it.

 _Foolish Elizabeth!_ she ridiculed herself. _If he did not already despair of you, certainly he does now!_ She did not have emotion enough to reason out why it concerned her so very much at that particular moment what any gentleman thought of her, particularly the one gentleman standing before her, but she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach to see Darcy's frowning face turned towards her.

"I think - I think perhaps I am a little fatigued after all," she said, forcing her features into a smile that felt more like a grimace. "Perhaps the journey is catching up to me now, and punishing me for not seeking to rest earlier, as my sister and your cousin did."

"Perhaps some refreshments?" Mr Darcy asked, finding his voice at last. "And returning to your seat will permit you at least a little rest. See, my cousin shall play now. Might I fetch your sister?"

"Oh - no!" Lizzy said, laughing. "Please do not think of it. Mary will only worry. I am quite well by myself. And in any case, I do not wish to disturb her and Colonel Fitzwilliam now that they have a moment together." She glanced up at the couple. "Do you recall, Mr Darcy, when we first noticed them together and anticipated their connection? I do not believe either of us expected it to occur so soon."

"No." Mr Darcy sighed, but Lizzy had the notion that it was a good-humoured response. "My cousin is not the most patient of men. It does not surprise me at all that he did not wait to declare his affections."

"You think it would have served him better to stay silent?"

Mr Darcy's answer came so late, and so quiet, that Elizabeth was almost certain she misheard him.

"Not in the least. I only wish I had his courage."


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N - sorry for lack of communication. Busy month and we're only a few days in!_

 _Still hoping to post a chapter a day here and I hope you are enjoying! The ebook is available to buy if you wish to, otherwise keep coming back for new chapters on the regular._

 _Busily working on book #3 which is as-yet title-less..._

 _Happy September xx_

* * *

"Mary, that was beautiful!" Colonel Fitzwilliam approached the piano with a broad smile. "And I am pleased to see you both getting on so well."

"How could we fail to, cousin?" Anne asked, with a warm glance towards Mary. "When your bride to be is such a charming young lady?"

Mary coloured prettily at the compliment, and said nothing.

"I wonder if you might wish for some refreshments, Mary," Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, and Anne took the opportunity to volunteer to play the piano and allow Mary a break from performing. Mary accepted, gratefully, glancing over towards Lady Catherine, who was at that moment entirely occupied in conversation with Mr Collins, and shooting sly glances towards Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, who were standing by the window, speaking in hushed tones.

"How are you bearing up?" Richard asked, with a smile, as soon as he and Mary were far enough away from the piano to not disturb Anne with their conversation.

"Well!" Mary said. "Your cousin is so kind. She has offered to sit with me a while and play while I am here: she is far more skilled than I."

"Nonsense!" Richard was unwilling to hear any such slight towards the young lady he perceived to be the most talented of all musicians.

"It is true!" Mary said, with a humble shrug. "She has had lessons under tutors I could only dream of. I most often had to find my own way." She smiled. "When she selected a piece for me to play, and I confessed I would not wish to attempt it in company, because I would struggle to manage its range without considerable practice, she insisted I must _have_ all the practice I wished for while I am here, and my very own tutor, in her." Mary shook her head in disbelief. "I cannot possibly deserve such kindness, and therefore must put it down to her affection for you. You are fortunate to have such family."

Richard nodded, but did not entirely agree with Mary's assessment. His eyes strayed, unbidden, to Darcy, who was the true apple of Lady Catherine's eye, and wondered how Mary failed to notice that where he was welcomed, Darcy was rejoiced over. He had made peace with their relative positions some time before, and counted himself fortunate that avoiding Lady Catherine's overbearing affection also freed him from her undue interest in his affairs.

As if Lady Catherine herself had been privy to his thoughts, she raised her voice in Darcy's direction.

"What are you whispering about over there, Fitzwilliam? You know I despise whispering. It is most rude and ill-mannered to have a conversation at the exclusion of all others present."

Mary's eyes widened, as if the criticism was levied towards them as well.

"Do not fret," Richard explained. "She is somewhat invested in who Darcy chooses to associate with."

Mary frowned, and Richard drew a breath, wondering how best to quickly appraise her of the complicated associations between Fitzwilliam Darcy and his aunt, but his cousin spoke before he got the chance.

"There was no slight intended, Aunt. I was merely assuring myself that Miss Elizabeth was not unduly stifled by the heat of the fire."

"I should be very surprised if she were!" Lady Catherine exclaimed. "Why, there is barely a flicker of heat coming from the fireplace. See, I am able to sit quite close to it and suffer no ill-effects." She appraised Elizabeth with suspicion. "I do hope you are not sickening for something, Miss Bennet. Come, sit a little nearer, for I do not wish you to catch a chill from standing so close to the window. Fitzwilliam, perhaps you will see to Anne. I do not doubt she will require assistance in turning the pages of her music-book."

Thus directed, Darcy and Elizabeth parted, but not before they exchanged a look that sparked Richard's interest.

"Mr Collins assures me that the banns will be read in church this Sunday, Mary, so we must attend to hear them." He smiled. "I hope you are not unhappy with the speed with which we proceed?"

"Not at all," she smiled. "It seems like a dream!"

"For me, too." Richard laughed. "I can scarcely believe how quickly things have changed for me. To think, I was dreading my future, unsure where I might live, what I might do. Now I cannot wait to find a home - _our_ home. And we must travel, once we are married. I am eager to show you all the places you wished to travel to and have not yet seen."

Mary looked up at him in delight.

"I do not mind where we go, Richard, provided we might be together."

"Of course we shall!" he said, gallantly. "We -"

"Richard!" Lady Catherine's voice interrupted him. "You must not monopolise poor Mary. You have the rest of your lives to talk with one another. Come here, dear, for I wish to compliment you on your playing, and learn more about you."

Mary dipped into a half-curtsey, bidding Richard a farewell, and moved closer to Lady Catherine, where she was immediately put to an inquisition on her schooling, her affection for music, and, at last, books, which subject Mary did her best to draw in her sister, in a manner that touched Richard's heart. He could see Lady Catherine was resistant towards Elizabeth Bennet, undoubtedly because she saw, as he did, the affection Darcy had for her. She would be a potential barrier to Darcy and Anne's marriage, and must, therefore, be treated with suspicion. Richard felt his nerves rise at the way his aunt insisted on arranging things to benefit her, regardless of the feelings of others. Neither Anne nor Darcy wished to wed one another - yet she would do her utmost to prevent them marrying anyone else.

Turning back towards the piano, he determined he would not allow his cousins to be railroaded into a match they would come to regret.

"Anne," he began, when she played her final chord and leaned back a little from the piano. "I am so grateful for your offer to tutor Mary, although I scarcely think she needs it!"

Anne shook her head.

"She was insistent that she needs further practice! I do not doubt it is merely confidence she requires, and as such, will do my best to build it up." She turned, momentarily to Darcy. "And how is Miss Elizabeth? I fear Mother has taken a dislike to her already!"

Darcy said nothing, his lips drawing together in a line.

"Yet Mary, she is fond of," Anne continued, sensing this a safer topic. "I am pleased for you, cousin, for I did so wish for your path to the altar to be a smooth one. There is much to be arranged in the short time before your wedding. How fortunate you are to marry just as you please!" She sighed, a wistful expression settling on her features. _If Anne is as ill-disposed to this arranging of her mother's as Darcy is, surely she will help us in orchestrating a marriage that will prevent it?_ he thought, glancing back to where Elizabeth and Mary spoke with Lady Catherine and Mr Collins. His cousin was close to speaking of his true feelings, he thought, if only he might be afforded an opportunity.


	15. Chapter 15

"You see, Mary!" Anne laughed. "I cannot teach you a thing you do not already know. You simply must have confidence in your abilities." The pair were sitting side by side at Anne's own piano, in the music room.

Mary smiled at the compliment, but shook it off.

"I have had little occasion to play often for people other than my own family," she confided. _And even then, it was not always welcomed._

"Well, you shall have a captive audience here, and in Richard." Anne smiled. "I am truly happy for you, Mary. I think you will be so content together."

She fell silent, turning her attention to the pile of sheet music they had spent a happy morning playing through. She seemed sad, although Mary could not begin to understand why. Ordinarily, she would not have pressed a young woman so newly acquainted with her into sharing a confidence, but their pleasant morning prompted her to enquire nonetheless.

"Are you - that is, do you not wish to marry?" She had affected as light a tone as possible, wondering if it were quite appropriate to enquire of Anne. She knew for some young ladies, marriage was their first and only concern, and it was nought but the lack of an offer that rendered them single. Elizabeth's friend Charlotte Lucas flashed through Mary's mind. She, too, had been resigned to anticipating a future as a spinster, content to be wedded to her piano and her books, as she doubted the possibility of her ever securing a husband. She was surprised, and glad, to now be in so different a position, although things had changed so quickly that it still took a great deal of adjustment. Anne was not plain, although she had a frailness to her figure that suggested a past period of ill-health. She was wealthy, too, both factors that must make her a desirable prospect for many young gentlemen seeking a wife.

"Alas, the right gentleman has not asked me yet," Anne said, with a wry smile. "And in any case, Mama has particular ideas about whom that right gentleman must be, and who I ought to marry." Her features clouded over. "She will not be reasoned with and I fear I have given up trying."

Mary said nothing, knowing full well what it was like to face opposition from such a matriarch. She was grateful that, as the middle daughter, plain and shy, she had avoided much of Mrs Bennet's attention. Her mother's ferocious commitment to ensuring Elizabeth married Mr Collins was proof enough that she would be a formidable foe, had Mary ever chosen to disobey her.

"I am sure the gentleman will not be so very bad," Mary said, cheerfully. "I believe many marriages do not start out as they do in novels, but love can grow over time."

"Oh, I care for him very much," Anne said, with a laugh. "But I do not think us suited as husband and wife. I am quite sure he agrees, for he has done his utmost to avoid our being thrust together. That is why I was so surprised that he accompanied your party here!"

"You speak of Mr Darcy?" Mary was shocked. "But -"

"I know," Anne laughed at her reaction. "It is quite ridiculous. But Mama has this notion…" She sighed, patiently, and recounted the tale of Lady Catherine and her sister, Mr Darcy's mother, agreeing when the children were still quite young, that they must marry and live happily together. "I fancy my aunt, Lady Anne Darcy, made the comment as a joke, for she had a witty sense of humour. My mother took it for fact, and it was rendered still more serious by my aunt's death shortly afterwards."

"Surely your mother wishes you to be happy…" Mary ventured.

"I do not know that mama cares much for happiness," Anne said. "Contentment and security are her watchwords, and both of these might be secured most efficaciously by my marrying William. Regardless of how either of us feels about the matter." She looked carefully at Mary. "I wager it is even more difficult for him, now that he begins to care for another."

Mary's cheeks reddened.

"Do you speak of my sister?"

"Ah, then I was not alone in noticing his affection for her. He downplays his feelings, and has not confided as much in me, nor do I believe he has admitted the truth to anyone beyond himself, if that!" She stood. "But I think them well-matched, the little I have seen of them, and will encourage him in it. At least one of us might marry as we choose."

Mary was about to ask Anne if there was someone whose affection she herself sought, sensing that there was some more beyond her comment than was explicitly said, but instead, Anne changed the subject.

"Well, Mary! I thoroughly enjoyed our morning together. What are your plans now? Do you wish to take a walk? Or, perhaps we shall see where Richard has got to with William. I believe they intended to go out shooting today." Anne shook her head. "Personally I cannot think of a less interesting pastime but I daresay they would think similarly of our musical pursuits."

"I am quite content to read, or amuse myself for an hour," Mary said. "I must not take up more of your time, when you were so kind to spend the morning with me."

"Nonsense!" Anne laughed. "But I confess I am a little tired. If you are sure you are happy, I might take my leave and retire to my room for some rest." She took Mary's arm, and the two walked towards the hallway. Mary was surprised at how Anne's fingers gripped her arm, and began to wonder if her new friend was quite as hale and hearty as she claimed.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Mary found herself asking. She was reluctant to leave Anne if she were truly unwell. "I could read to you, if you like?"

"You are very kind," Anne said, dismissing her concern. "But I merely wish to rest a while. Please do not worry! And do, take leave to explore the house as much as you wish. I ought not to leave you alone, I suppose." She bit her lip. "Mama is in her sitting room, I believe…"

"I am quite content." Mary smiled, and bid her friend good morning, although she waited until Anne had climbed the stairs and disappeared out of sight before she looked away. She would ask Richard later if he might share with her the nature of Anne's illness. She did not like to be taken for nosy, or question her new friend too intimately, but she had little experience of illness, and did so wish for her friend not to be unwell.


	16. Chapter 16

Lizzy relished the feel of the ground beneath her feet. She had taken advantage of the fine morning, and noting Mary and Anne's engagement at the piano had seized the opportunity for a brisk walk around the grounds of Rosings. In truth, she valued the time alone, for she had been so often around other people of late that she was suffering for a little peace and the ability to think her thoughts in silence, with only the sound of the wind rustling through what leaves remained on the trees for company.

 _Rosings is truly beautiful!_ she thought, admiring the cultivated lawns and elegantly planted gardens. It spoke of Lady Catherine's good taste - and her considerable wealth, for the little Elizabeth knew of estate management indicated that such a property would not be inexpensive to maintain. Her thoughts flitted to Pemberley, for she had heard it spoken of often the previous evening, most expressively from Lady Catherine's lips. _My nephew's estate at Pemberley is larger still,_ she had remarked. _I expect, Miss Bennet, if Rosings is remarkable to you, then Pemberley would be overwhelming indeed._ This was proceeded by a pointed observation of how pleasant it was to see the three cousins together again, particularly Mr Darcy and Anne, who had been childhood playmates, and would one day be still more to one another. Lizzy had obediently looked, but not seen any trace of the affection Lady Catherine claimed to notice. Mr Collins, however, had exulted in the match. _What a fine pair they make, Lady Catherine. How elegantly matched. When do you intend the wedding to be?_ This last had drawn a scowl, and Mr Collins had fallen silent, to contemplate his error. Lizzy had managed to hide her amusement in a sneeze, which served only to reassure Lady Catherine that her assessment had been correct and Elizabeth must, indeed, be suffering from some rapidly approaching illness. She had been ordered to retire early, and instead of bristling at the command, Elizabeth had gratefully accepted her exile, relieved to be free of the Rosings parlour and all who remained within.

She had not slept, though, merely lain still and allowed her thoughts to have their sway. Mr Darcy had been the saving grace of the evening, as he had been far too often of late. His actions haunted her even now, and she found herself replaying their snippets of conversation in her mind, seeking some understanding of the gentleman who seemed so changed from the man she had first met at Meryton. He was certainly still as proud, as well-mannered as he ever had been, but there was more concern, concern for _her!_ That notion she had settled upon in the early hours of the morning. It was not so much that Mr Darcy was changed, rather that he had changed in his interaction with her. He treated her as an equal, as a friend, as… She shook off the notion. It might be that Mr Darcy had come to appreciate her friendship, as she had his, particularly at present, when she was glad of any ally. Yes, that was the word that she would best use to describe the Mr Darcy she knew now. He was her ally: in ensuring Mary and Richard's happiness, and, perhaps, in guarding her own. She had fully expected him to take her mother's part in the question of Mr Collins, and had been pleasantly surprised at his siding with her. Even when she spoke a little too freely on the topic of marriage, he had not chastised her, nor judged her. If anything she had half imagined she saw approval in the dark eyes he had fixed upon her as she spoke.

She turned a corner, and, as if thinking of him had summoned him, saw at a distance the recognisable figure of Mr Darcy himself, accompanied by his cousin and a manservant, as they toured the grounds with their rifles. The promised shooting trip must have been embarked upon with all haste, she realised with a smile. She raised her hand and waved to them, almost before realising what she had done, but by then it was too late: they had seen her.

"Miss Elizabeth!" Colonel Fitzwilliam called. "Good morning! Are you walking?"

"I have been," she said, as they drew closer. "It has been a very pleasant hour."

"Where is your sister?" Darcy asked, glancing about as if he expected to find Mary hiding behind a tree. "You are alone?"

"Entirely!" Elizabeth sighed happily. "Or, at least, I was until I crossed your path." She smiled warningly at them both. "I suppose now I must sacrifice it, in order to be polite."

"Oh, you need not stand on ceremony with us, Miss Elizabeth. If you desire solitude, you may have it," Richard said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Come along, Darcy, we must leave the lady to her walk."

"No, I was only teasing." Elizabeth shivered. "I was considering turning back soon anyway. It is not as warm as it looks!"

"Ah, the curse of the autumn," Richard agreed. He glanced at his cousin, then back towards the servant who trailed after them. "Excuse me a moment, I just wish to pose a question about the grounds. Do, please, go on ahead. I will be but a moment."

Elizabeth nodded, but Darcy visibly hesitated, before at last sighing and gesturing to her that they might continue their walk.

"How do you find the environs of Rosings, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked, after they had walked a few steps in silence. "Might I inquire as to where you walked?"

Elizabeth sketched out her rough route to him, pointing out the direction she had begun, and describing how she had ended up in that particular spot.

"Why, you have missed the walled garden!" he cried, aghast. "It is the pride of the garden, Miss Elizabeth, and should still be quite beautiful even so late in the season, for the walls shelter it from the elements."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow.

"It was my mother's favourite place to sit when she visited Rosings," he confided. "Perhaps…you might permit me to show you?"

Lizzy glanced over her shoulder, but Richard was thoroughly engaged in conversation with his servant.

"Now?"

"If you wish," Darcy said. "Or…we might go later, if you are tired." Anxiety crossed his features and he looked momentarily far younger than his years.

"If your cousin will not object to the diversion," Elizabeth said. The matter was put to Richard, who was quite content to take the circuitous route back towards the house, and he recounted a particularly amusing anecdote of his and Darcy's childhood attempts to scale the walls, which had once resulted in a broken collarbone for the poor Richard Fitzwilliam.

"It's true, Miss Elizabeth, you need not look so shocked. I was not always the fine, athletic figure you see before you now. As a child, I was dreadfully uncoordinated. Darcy, here, has always had the grace and poise of a true gentleman."

Darcy shook his head at his cousin's good-natured teasing, but Lizzy was touched to see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, belying his usual stern expression.

"Is that a chestnut tree? We must scavenge some to take back with us," Richard said, striding forwards. "Do not you think the ladies will delight in roasting chestnuts around the fire this afternoon?"

He did not wait for an answer, but hurried towards a large tree, bowing heavy with the tiny fruits.

"I see your cousin does not tire easily," Lizzy remarked.

"He is all energy," Darcy agreed. "A state which I subscribe to his excitement at the forthcoming nuptials." They reached a small, wrought-iron bench, and he gestured towards it, whereupon they both sat. Elizabeth looked around the walled garden, enjoying the beauty of the country-style planting, and marvelling at how many plants still bloomed late in the season.

"You are quite right to speak of this garden's beauty, Mr Darcy," she remarked, after a happy moment of reflection. "I am grateful to you for showing it to me."

"I thought you would appreciate it." He was evidently pleased to have been proved correct in his assumptions. Lizzy opened her mouth to speak, and at the same moment, Mr Darcy addressed her.

"I wonder -"

"Miss Bennet, I hope -"

They both broke off, smiling ruefully at one another. Mr Darcy dropped his gaze, allowing her to continue uninterrupted.

"I must confess I never thought we should be cursed with the problem of speaking over one another, Mr Darcy," she observed, with a laugh. "How often have we suffered the opposite, of neither of us saying a word?"

"I would humbly suggest that has rarely been your problem, Miss Bennet." This was uttered in a dry murmur, but even Elizabeth could not miss the humour in his voice. _There, again, you surprise me, Mr Darcy!_ she marvelled inwardly. _How is it that I did not appreciate your sense of humour before now?_

"I very much enjoyed showing you around Rosings yesterday," Mr Darcy remarked. "I hope you did not find the hour too tedious."

"No indeed!" Elizabeth said, with a smile. "It is such a beautiful house, and filled with such lovely things. I appreciated hearing a little of their history." Her eyes dropped. "Again, you appear to know me well, for I found everything you selected to be of interest." Her heart hammered against her chest. She ought not to speak so freely, but for some reason she could not quite explain, she felt safe to do so, even though it was to Mr Darcy she spoke.

"Perhaps you will permit me to introduce you to the library this afternoon, then," he said, standing as Richard returned to join them. "I shall, of course, give you free reign to read whatever you wish."


	17. Chapter 17

When Richard reached the parlour, he was surprised to see Mary sitting alone with Lady Catherine. He felt a tiny flash of anxiety before he determined the happy air that rested between the two.

"Richard! At long last!" Lady Catherine sighed. "We half took you for lost, did not we, Mary?"

Mary smiled, shyly, at him, and he crossed the room to greet her, taking a seat near the two women.

"Is not Anne with you?" he asked, concerned that Mary had been bored, or lonely, in their absence. "When I left this morning you were both so engrossed in playing music I thought I would have to prise your fingers from the keys."

"We had a very lovely time," Mary said, with a laugh. "Anne is so patient with me! But I fear I might have worn her out. She retired to her room to rest." She glanced, nervously, at Lady Catherine, whose lips drew together in a line.

"She will soon recover, I am sure," his aunt said. "And in her absence, I have been afforded little time to get to know your bride better. Mary has been telling me all about her sisters. There are five of you in all, is that not right?"

Mary nodded.

"And you are the middle." Lady Catherine looked at Richard significantly. "Five daughters, and Mary the first to become engaged."

"Yes," Mary said. "Although -"

"Ah, yes, the eldest appears to have won Charles Bingley's heart." Lady Catherine spoke dismissively of Darcy's friend, as if such a trophy were scarcely worth trying for. Richard would have found her attitude amusing, had he not been somewhat fond of Charles himself, for his friendship to Darcy and general good nature.

"Anyway," Lady Catherine continued. "I am not surprised that my dear nephew chose you of all of them, Mary, for your disposition will make you a very capable wife, I am sure. Richard," she turned her attention to him. "I wondered if I might speak to you about a property near her that would make an excellent home for you, once you are married. I assume you intend to settle near here rather than near Philip?" Her expression faltered a fraction. "Or do you intend to settle closer to Hertfordshire?"

"Actually, Aunt, we shall go north first. I must visit my brother, of course, and I have a wish to show Mary Pemberley, as Darcy is eager to return there."

"Pemberley?" Lady Catherine's eyebrows lifted. "Then you shall not stay in Kent so long?"

"I do not intend to!" Richard laughed. "I hardly think Darcy's plans have changed: he was always for Pemberley before year's end. But let us ask him, when he returns."

"Yes, where is he, pray? I thought you had spent the morning together?"

"We did." Richard leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Our path crossed with Miss Elizabeth's, who was out walking."

"Oh?" Lady Catherine's voice was dangerously low.

"Darcy wished to show her the walled garden, so we took a turn about there. Which reminds me!" He bent, lifting his pouch to his knee and drawing one of its collected treasures forwards. "I brought us some chestnuts, Mary, I thought we might toast them in the fire this afternoon. Perhaps the scent will rouse Anne to join us. I trust you will not care to partake, Aunt?"

Lady Catherine wrinkled her nose as if she certainly not care to partake nor even to consider the prospect of roasted chestnuts.

"You have failed to illuminate us as to the whereabouts of Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth _now_ , Richard, or did you abandon them to the elements?" She cast a hand towards the window, to illustrate the sky, which had darkened to a cloudy grey, threatening an imminent downpour.

"Not in the least! They paused only to visit the library." Richard smiled, amused at his aunt's discomfort. Evidently she, too, noticed the danger of permitting Darcy and Elizabeth the chance to speak together, unhindered by friends and family eavesdropping, but unlike Richard, feared it.

"The library! Here? Alone?"

"Does one not usually visit a library alone, Aunt?" Richard feigned ignorance. "You need not fear anything improper, unless you wish to besmirch Darcy's good character. He is a gentleman, I assure you."

"It is not Fitzwilliam's character I am concerned about!" Lady Catherine hauled herself to her feet, and began calling out. "Fitzwilliam! I wish to speak to you! Fitzwilliam!"

There was a rustle by the door, and it opened, admitting Darcy, a little concerned at his aunt's raised voice.

"Good afternoon, Aunt Catherine. What is the matter?"

"Oh!" Lady Catherine reached for his arm, hanging onto him wither rather more weight than was necessary. "Good. You are returned. Come, sit by me a while. I have scarcely seen you since your arrival here…"

Richard caught Darcy's eye and smirked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief at his aunt's behaviour.

"What was that about?" Mary asked, leaning close enough that she might whisper and still be heard by Richard, and nobody else.

"I believe my cousin was but moments away from asking a certain question of your sister," Richard whispered back, his eyes on Darcy, who looked rather like a deer caught in a hunter's sights, as Lady Catherine sallied forth a barrage of commentary on her current concerns.

"Truly?" Mary's face broke into a smile. "Do not tease me, Richard. You cannot mean it?"

"Why, I cannot be certain, but I wager it is on his mind to ask it." He searched Mary's face. "You do not mind it?"

"It is the very thing Jane and I hope for." Mary confided. "And Mr Darcy will be eminently better for Elizabeth than Mr Collins ever could."


	18. Chapter 18

At Mr Darcy's departure, Elizabeth watched the empty space where he had been standing just half a moment before, before walking a step towards a chair, and sinking down into its smooth frame.

 _I wonder if you might permit me to consult you on a matter of some importance,_ Mr Darcy had said. Elizabeth had been inclined to laugh, to ask what he could possibly find so important as to require her opinion on, at two o'clock on a quiet afternoon, but when she noticed his serious expression and the way he kept his hands fixed to his side, her amusement vanished. Instantly, she anticipated the worst.

 _There is no problem, I hope?_ she had asked, her voice shaking slightly in a way that she could not control.

 _Problem?_ He had seemed surprised, and his eyebrows lifted, before drawing into one another in an expression of concern. _There is no problem, in fact, I speak to you of solutions - a way of resolving certain problems we are both facing…_

That had been the moment that Lady Catherine's imperious voice had broken through the quiet library, and interrupted their conversation. Mr Darcy had straightened, glanced towards the door, and evidently considered ignoring the summons, before it came again, with increasing insistence. One bow towards Elizabeth, an apologetic half-smile, and he had gone.

Elizabeth reached for a book at random from the shelf and opened it, but could not settle to reading. She scanned one page and then another, before groaning and closing the book, returning it to its home, and leaning back in her chair.

 _I speak to you of solutions…_ What solution could Mr Darcy offer to her current situation? She was at an impasse: her mother would not relent on the subject of her marrying Mr Collins, and she certainly was not about to acquiesce and surrender any chance she had at future happiness simply to please her family. Her lips quirked. _No doubt that does make me selfish, as Charlotte asserts, but alas, if that is true then I must embrace my besetting sin and live with the consequences. No doubt Jane or Mary or even Kitty would happily do as Mama compels them._ She thought of the eye-rolling and giggling that had taken place between her two youngest sisters whenever Mr Collins opened his mouth at the dining table and sighed. _Well, perhaps none of them would quite comply_ happily, _but I do not doubt they would obey eventually. Am I so very different to my sisters?_ For one startling moment, she recognised that of the four, it was Lydia who was most like her in this instance. Lydia, who never did anything other than precisely what she pleased.

This sobering thought brought her up sharp, and she straightened in her seat. _I am no Lydia. But I must do as I think right, make the best decision I can for the future, and that certainly does not involve marrying Mr Collins._ She felt that even more strongly than she had at Longbourn. For, here, she could see the people that she would be pressed into common society with. Lady Catherine already did not like her, that much was plain. She giggled, recalling the look of abject horror their hostess had shot her when she had confessed no skills at music, or drawing, or even needlepoint. _I am utterly unaccomplished, I am afraid!_ she had remarked, with a self-effacing shrug of her shoulders. It did not bother her, until she lifted her eyes to Mr Darcy's. Thinking she read disappointment in their depths made her assertion rather less amusing, and she felt a little regretful that she had not applied herself with more commitment to the learning of music, or art, or any skill that might be called "accomplished" in such a circle. "I read," she had offered, but by comparison to Anne de Bourgh and even Mary, this did not seem an altogether endearing talent.

Hauling herself to her feet, Lizzy prowled once more around the large library, scanning the shelves in hopes she might learn something of the library's owner from its contents. After passing two shelves with fading interest, Lizzy was forced to acknowledge that these volumes were no doubt selected for their beauty and ornamentation rather than their contents. She lifted her eyes, scanning the titles for one she might recognise, and at last found the title she had pressed into Mary's hands only a few days previously. Easing it off the shelf, she dislodged a piece of paper which had been shoved in between it and its neighbour. The letter - for when she bent to retrieve it she noticed the seal was broken - bore no name, but the letter A. Instinctively, Elizabeth opened it, wondering if she ought to return it to its owner. She had not intended to read it, yet her eyes scanned the contents, and she lifted her fingers to her lips. _A_ must be Anne, although the letter's contents addressed a nameless "dearest love" and spoke with such bitterness of their separation that Elizabeth felt her heart sink. Poor Anne de Bourgh was nursing a broken heart, a love that could not be. Elizabeth's eyes dropped, without meaning to, to the signature, which was also a single letter. _G._ Her mind raced. If only they might be reunited! She felt certain that it was Lady Catherine who had posed the unsurmountable obstacle. Her mother's disapproval would not be enough to commit Elizabeth to a lifetime of unhappiness, but she could well understand how deeply such a circumstance would confound a young woman of Anne's temperament. This letter indicated her paramour thought very well of her, and longed to be with her. He bid her slip away, and marry him, trusting that Lady Catherine would come to appreciate the wisdom of the match in time. Lizzy folded the letter and replaced it back upon the shelf. It would be foolish of Anne to take this gentleman's advice, bringing such scandal upon herself and her family. Yet, if she was truly trapped, was there any other option?

 _I must try to win her confidence,_ she thought. _Perhaps I can offer her some assistance. At the very least, it will suit me well to distract myself from my own problems by finding solutions to other people's!_

Her use of the word "solution" brought to mind Mr Darcy's words once more. He clearly cared for his cousin's well-being, although she did not imagine the sending of letters between his cousin and the mysterious "G" would be so easily understood by him. He would see only the impropriety. _But then, he does not have a romantic bone in his body,_ Lizzy reasoned. _Everything must be logical and sensible for Mr Darcy, and appearance is all._ It would help her to have him on her side, though. Perhaps there might be a way for her to gain his insight into the situation without betraying what little she suspected of Anne's predicament.

She left the library, turning towards the parlour where she could detect the rise and fall of voices. She was a little disappointed to see Anne de Bourgh not among them, but then reckoned upon it being for the best, for she certainly did not wish to speak to her new friend of her suspicions yet, and definitely not when they were in the company of those who would demand an explanation. With a deferential smile at Lady Catherine, who was commanding Mr Darcy's whole attention, Lizzy slipped wordlessly into a seat near Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mary, and joined in their happy conversation, her ears pricking up as Mary mentioned her morning's music with Anne.

"She is very kind, a very amiable sort of person, only -" Mary hesitated, until Colonel Fitzwilliam prompted her to speak further and not mind any misunderstanding. "I wonder that she is a little lonely," Mary conceded.

"Then it is good that you are both here," Richard said, smiling first at Mary and then Elizabeth in turn. "I do not doubt she will find the confidences of two such pleasant young ladies as yourself to be of far more value than either Darcy or I."

Elizabeth nodded, feeling a little reassured at this assertion. She would pursue a friendship with Anne, if she could, and hope that her friend trusted her enough to confide in her, before their visit drew to its close.


	19. Chapter 19

Some days later, it was remembered over the breakfast table the party's intent to visit poor Captain Martin, who was at present housed with his brother and sister-in-law at the edge of the Rosings estate. That particular day being a quiet one, it was decided that the visit should take place that very afternoon, and Elizabeth and Mary hurried to fashion together some notions that might prove cheering to the household, if not to the gentleman himself.

"Do you have any idea what sailors find interesting, Lizzy?" Mary asked, with a laugh, as they bundled their supplies together.

"Not a one!" Elizabeth admitted. "Although I am quite sure stolen boughs and half-dead flowers are not among them." She grimaced at the unhappy bunches she had managed to extract from the gardener that morning. She tied an old hair ribbon around them and tried, listlessly, to make them more than what they were.

"They will please his sister-in-law, at least, I am sure," Mary said, with more confidence than she felt.

"Indeed!" Elizabeth said, laying the posy in the top of the basket that contained two books, a jar of jam, and a few vegetables from the larder that Anne had insisted on including. "I am sure Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy will be better able to entertain their friend. And no gentleman can ever despise freshly made blackberry jam, I am certain!"

"Oh, but Mr Darcy is not coming with us after all!" Mary explained. "He mentioned his absence to Colonel Fitzwilliam this morning. Apparently, he had some business to attend to."

"Business?" Elizabeth asked, sharply.

Mary nodded, glancing up at her, and wondering why Mr Darcy's absence should spark such irritation in her sister. When she looked at Elizabeth's face, however, she determined it was disappointment, and not irritation, that caused her outburst.

"It is of no great import, I am sure,"

"And yet he chooses to see to it at the expense of visiting his friend," Elizabeth said, with a shrug of her shoulders. "What a pity." She picked up the basket and hurried towards the door.

"I merely meant," Mary said, hurrying after her. "That it would be of little consequence that Mr Darcy does not accompany us on _this_ visit. I am sure he will make time to call on his friend another day, and the poor gentleman's mood lifted by two visits, instead of everyone all at once."

"I dare say." Elizabeth did not sound convinced.

"Ah, Elizabeth, Mary, are you ready?" Anne was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs, clasping an armful of papers. "Look at what Mr Darcy has found - some shipping manifestos and maps that once belonged to my father. I am sure these will offer some entertainment to poor Captain Martin."

Mary nodded, smiling encouragingly at Anne, although privately she wondered if these notions, whilst kindly meant, might not serve merely to remind the poor captain what he had left behind. She would not say as much, though, for surely Anne knew the man better than she did. Whilst she had often had reason to visit the poor in Hertfordshire - for she had followed Fordyce's sermons to the letter and felt the value of charity to be very important - those people had most often been ailing elderly folk, mothers, and children. That a young, otherwise healthy man might be in need of such sympathetic visiting was a new concern for her, and she did not wish to set a foot wrong and cause some offence. She also could not help but acknowledge the injuries the man had sustained as a result of being in the Navy were surely not unlike those her own Colonel Fitzwilliam had risked during his time in the regiment. He had confessed as much: that he had seen friends cut down, or struck by illness, and he himself had had an unhappily lengthy period of convalescence to recover from some "trouble with his lungs". He did not say any more, but Mary noticed he sometimes sounded a little breathless, and worried that he might not be as well as he maintained.

"Mary!" Elizabeth prompted, with a merry laugh. "What is the matter, dear? You looked quite serious there for a moment." A stricken expression crossed her face. "You are not rethinking our gifts? Perhaps you are right. The books are a little trite, and flowers - who can really want such trifles?"

"Nonsense!" Anne said, forestalling their removal. "Everything is just right. Now, where is my errant cousin? We shall want to set off without him, if he does not come soon!"

Happily, Richard appeared just a moment or two later and greeted the ladies with an extravagant bow.

"Are we ready to go a-visiting?"

"We have been ready for some time already," Anne chided. "Now come, and take your bride's arm like a sensible fellow. I will walk with Elizabeth."

Colonel Fitzwilliam first of all reached for the basket that Mary had been clutching, and, freed of her burden, she happily fell into step beside him, a little nervous, now that their hour was upon them.

"Is something the matter?" Richard asked after they had walked a little way in silence.

"I am not quite sure how one ought to speak to a Captain in the Navy," Mary confessed, with a laugh that sounded forced, even to her. "I am certain we shall have nothing in common!"

Richard thought on this for a moment.

"You both know me! And, Mary, dear, you managed excellently to converse with a Colonel from the Regiment, even before we had been properly introduced."

She smiled, acknowledging his point.

"That was a little different, though," she protested.

"Indeed!" Richard said, cheerfully. "I shall hope you do not speak the same way to Captain Martin, for if you do the fellow is bound and liable to fall in love with you, and I shall certainly not want that." He laughed, and Mary nudged him in the side.

"You are ridiculous."

"Quite probably." They walked a few steps. "In all honesty, my dear, you need not worry at all. It has been quite some years since I last saw Captain Martin, but I remember him to be a jolly, sensible sort of a fellow. No doubt his ill health might have sobered him a bit - which is likely no bad thing, for I recall more than one occasion -" He glanced down at his soon-to-be wife and evidently rethought the wisdom of his candour. "But at any rate, he is not a bad sort. He will be pleased to see us, and we need not stay long. I think it fine that you and Elizabeth have taken the idea so to heart."

"We are not strangers to charity, Richard!" Mary scolded him. "I often took baskets to the less fortunate around Meryton."

"I am not surprised."

"It's just that…the less fortunate in Meryton were people I had known all my life."

"Well, Mary, this is the danger," Richard began. "Of leaving home behind and forging life anew. Do you regret it?" He asked the question with an affectation of lightness, but Mary fancied he was listening carefully for her reply, wondering at length if she did, in fact, regret it.

"No," she said, calmly. "Now, come along. I do not wish for Anne and Elizabeth to arrive a full half an hour before us!"


	20. Chapter 20

_The Dovecote_ , as Mrs Sally Martin referred to her house, was as charming as its name might suggest, and despite its small size and lack of elegance, Elizabeth could not help but think it a far cosier home than Rosings.

Her husband, John, was out working, she said, so it was just she and her brother-in-law, and a passel of children, who gawped at the new arrivals, before running off to play.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam?" A thin, male voice carried, as Captain Martin hobbled close enough to greet the guests.

"You ought to be sitting, George," Mrs Martin said, affectionately, but firmly, and Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped aside to let the Captain through ahead of them, that he might seat himself without an audience.

"I hardly recognise you, Richard!" he said, as everyone found a place, and Mrs Martin hurried to prepare some tea. "And I must congratulate you on your news." He beamed first at Elizabeth, then at Mary. "This must be the young lady."

Mary nodded, smiling and blushing, but said nothing. Lizzy was pleased to see her sister so welcomed, but wished she were braver and more able to speak for herself.

"And this elegant lady cannot possibly be Miss Anne," Captain Martin said, at length, when he lifted his eyes to Anne de Bourgh, who was sitting next to Elizabeth, patiently waiting to be acknowledged. "I ought to have recognised you first, I do not doubt, for we are such close neighbours."

"And yet I have not been to call on you, for which I can only apologise," Anne said, ducking her head.

"No apologies," Captain Martin waved her words away. "I've not been fit for visitors much 'afore today, anyway, and I'd not have wished you to see me when I was so bad tempered."

"Who is bad tempered?" Mrs Martin asked, hurrying into the room with the tea things.

"I was, Sally," Captain Martin said, without a trace of embarrassment. "I am sure you'll have no trouble of assuring our guests what a brute your brother-in-law was when he came back from the sea." He fixed his gaze on Colonel Fitzwilliam. "No doubt if you were here I'd have come out of it sooner. As it was, it took coming to blows with John to set me right."

Mrs Martin sucked in a breath.

"Oh, don't fret, Sally. I fought with Richard enough as boys that he well knows what a block-head I can be at times." His eyes crinkling, he turned to smile at the ladies. "And I hope you'll not be too shocked to hear me speak so frankly, ladies. War is a terrible business, and it's hard for a man to be cut down when he is so used to doing just as he pleases, minding his own way and being active." He gestured to his leg. "I've had all of that taken away from me and it took more time than I'd like to admit for me to accept my fate with relatively good grace."

Lizzy reached gratefully for the tea that Mrs Martin handed her.

"I hope you are not struggling too much with your confinement, Captain Martin," she said.

"Not now." He beamed around the room. "'Tis good to have guests. And my brother sees that I am well entertained. He brings me papers and things to read from town just as often as he might. And then there are the children. You cannot know, Miss Bennet, what a blessing it is to have nieces and nephews. They keep life interesting."

"They certainly give their uncle more trouble than they ought," Mrs Martin said, spying one of the offending children lurking in the doorway and shooing them away with a smile.

"And how are you settled, Mrs Martin?" Anne asked, taking on the mantel that was rightfully hers, as daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and responsible for all of Rosings' tenants. "I hope you have everything you need? You must not hesitate to send to the house if there is any problem."

"Oh, la! I'd not bother Lady Catherine or any of the household for our little trials," Mrs Martin said, with a smile. "This one is firmly in line, now, and I can manage my children just as well as ever I could."

Captain Martin did not seem at all embarrassed to be spoken of in the same breath as the children, although Elizabeth fancied some weeks earlier it would have stung his pride sorely.

Elizabeth's eyes lit on a desk strewn with papers, within reach of Captain Martin's chair, and her mind put the clues together.

"Do you write, Captain Martin?"

"He's scarcely without his pen," Mrs Martin put in.

"Only letters." He smiled, sadly. "I have many friends, Miss Bennet, but not so many of them local to me, or that I am able to converse with freely." He coughed, and Elizabeth wondered at his choice of words. His eyes lifted to Anne's. "And how is Lady Catherine faring with guests and news of a wedding?"

This was Colonel Fitzwilliam's cue to speak, and he did, filling Captain Martin in on all the particulars of his and Mary's plans. Mrs Martin took Mary aside and quizzed her about her own preparations for the wedding, and even Elizabeth found herself drawn into a lively conversation about the merits of ribbons and lace.

The visit drew to a close far quicker than anybody anticipated, and at the chime of the clock, Colonel Fitzwilliam stood.

"We do not wish to tire you out, George. Mrs Martin, thank you so much for allowing us to call. I hope you'll allow us to do it again while we are here?" He reached out to shake Captain Martin's hand. "I'll bring Darcy with me next time."

"Mr Darcy?" Captain Martin's lips raised in a smile. "Goodness, is he with you too? What a gathering. Yes, do give him my best regards. I hope he is well?"

"Quite well," Colonel Fitzwilliam said. "Only called away on business today, or he'd have accompanied us."

Lizzy felt her own lips turn down. She still did not think it entirely respectable that Mr Darcy should choose business over his friend, whatever Mary had said on the matter.

The party made their goodbyes and began the short walk back towards Rosings. Elizabeth once more found herself in step with Anne, and the two fell to conversing.

"What a pity Mr Darcy could not join us, when he and Captain Martin were friends as children," she remarked.

"Yes," Anne sighed. "It is a shame. They were not close, I do not think, but played together on occasion when they were here. It is such a shame that when one grows up one cannot associate precisely as one chooses."

She sounded a little melancholy, and when Elizabeth glanced at her, her expression was unreadable. A memory jabbed at Elizabeth's mind; the note she had discovered in the library. Her breath quickened. Had that not been signed _G_? G - for George? Surely she had just met the very man who authored the note: Captain George Martin, who had confessed freely to writing letters to friends, and _those he was unable to converse with freely._ Elizabeth could scarcely keep a smile from her lips. She had discovered the mystery! Her heart sank. And yet, how could she ever help her friend in this dilemma? There was no way Anne de Bourgh, daughter of Lady Catherine, could ever have a future with a penniless, invalid Captain.


	21. Chapter 21

Darcy's carriage clattered to a stop and he climbed down, glancing cautiously around the small coaching inn and wandering, absently, if his companion had arrived before him.

Was it a stalling tactic, as Richard had asserted, when he told him of his plans for the day? He had feigned ignorance, insisting that his visit to the Pale Horse had everything to do with escaping the confines of Rosings and that it was sheer coincidence that it would bring his path across a certain gentleman. His cousin had not been convinced, but he had at least taken the decision not to quiz him any further, but leave him to his folly, if indeed it was folly.

"Mr Darcy."

His companion had not only arrived before him, but decided on a seat, ordered a drink and noticed his arrival before Darcy had chance to walk more than a few steps across the threshold of the quiet inn. He turned towards an older man, comfortably ensconced in a leather-backed chair in one comer of the room. Feeling a sudden flare of anxiety he did his best to swallow, Darcy crossed the room in a few long strides.

"Mr Bennet." He greeted Elizabeth's father with a warm handshake. "Thank you very much for agreeing to meet me."

"You are welcome," Mr Bennet said, gesturing to the empty seat beside him and indicating Darcy might take it. "I cannot pretend I am not glad of an excuse to leave Longbourn for half a day." He glanced over the top of his spectacles. "Although I also cannot pretend I am not intrigued. Tell me, why the cloak and dagger? What was of such great importance it could not be spoken of in a week or more, when my family and I will join you in Kent for Mary's wedding? Why the necessity of meeting on such neutral ground?"

"The inn does not displease you?"

"On the contrary." Mr Bennet drained the contents of his glass and looked expectantly at Darcy, who took a moment to recognise the significance of the look and summon a serving girl to bring fresh drinks for the both of them.

"As I say, I am glad to escape Longbourn, where there is such weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth that even my study is no barrier to disturbance."

Darcy blanched.

"I hope your daughters…Mrs Bennet…I hope they are all well?"

"Well, yes," Mr Bennet grimaced. "Well occupied with bemoaning their future if a certain marriage is not agreed upon before the month is out."

Darcy paused before responding.

"I cannot speak for Mr Bingley, of course, but I believe him to be fond of Miss Bennet," he began, striving to reassure the gentleman before him that, in this case at least, all might be well.

"I am not concerned about Mr Bingley!" Mr Bennet exclaimed. He took a sip of his drink. "I assure you, if my only concern was Jane and Mr Bingley's future happiness I would be happy indeed! They are both as innocent as babes and may take a little cajoling to reach an agreement, but there can be no doubt of their affections for one another." He paused. "No, my concern is for Elizabeth. Tell me, Mr Darcy, doe she fare well at Rosings?"

Mr Bennet's voice had grown serious and sad and when Darcy looked at him it was as if the fellow had aged two decades in a moment.

"I believe her to be quite content," Darcy said, in as gentle a tone of voice as he could manage. "She has formed a friendship with my cousin, Anne, and with Mary, of course. The three young ladies are often together." He paused, before warming to his topic. "There is a fine library at Rosings, and many pleasant walks, which I have had the privilege of introducing Miss Elizabeth to. In a group, you understand -" he said, hurriedly, eager that Elizabeth's father might not misread some nefarious interest in this comment."

"Good." Mr Bennet nodded. "Good. The house is…quiet without her." He seemed so bereft that Darcy felt a flash of sympathy for the older man.

They lapsed into semi-companionable silence, both men nursing their drinks and their thoughts without need of conversation. At length, Mr Bennet spoke again.

"Well, Mr Darcy, whilst I am fond of silence, I am sure you did not summon me here merely that we might ignore one another." He looked expectantly at Darcy, and he knew he could delay the inevitable no longer.

"Actually," he cleared his throat. "As we have already skirted the topic, I wished to speak to you about Miss Elizabeth. About - the future." He clenched his hands into fists, then lay them flat on his knees, then, at last, picked up his glass. His mouth was dry but he did not dare to take a sip, and instead merely occupied one hand in twirling the glass on the palm of the other, watching the light ripple over the surface of its contents.

"Mr Bennet," he began again. "I am generally a man of few words, and so I shall speak my mind and trust you will not mistake the importance I place on this question, or on your answer."

Mr Bennet raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Darcy took this as an invitation to proceed, and continued.

"I invited you here, sir, to ask you permission to ask Miss Elizabeth to marry me."

There was no immediate response, but Mr Bennet looked taken aback by the suggestion.

"You know, I am sure, that she does not intend to marry Mr Collins."

"I am aware," Mr Bennet replied, drily. He took a slow sip of his own drink before continuing. "In fact, I cannot blame her. I do not think them well-suited and were it not for my wife's interference…" He trailed off, dismissing the rest of his sentence with a shrug. "I gave my permission for the marriage assuming she wanted it, or would at least be willing to accept it." His eyes fluttered closed and he grimaced as if recalling something that brought him pain. "I now see this was a mistake on my part. If she holds to her refusal I will of course not pursue the matter." He opened his eyes and fixed a watery stare at Mr Darcy. "You feel assured of her acceptance - you have already asked her?" There was a mild note of surprise in his voice.

"Not directly," Darcy admitted. "I wished to secure the approval of her family before I raised the question of marriage with her."

Something that may have been amusement glinted in Mr Bennet's eyes.

"Well, Mr Darcy, in that case, you may have my approval, but not my assistance, for I was of little enough help the last time. Recall, however, that desire to please her family was not inducement enough to cause Lizzy to marry a man she did not already care for. What makes you think you will be any different?"


	22. Chapter 22

Richard fidgeted in the pew. It had been several years since he had attended the church at Hunsford, and he had been a good deal shorter and slimmer when last he'd had to fold his knees into the de Bourgh pew. Despite having one visit under his belt already, he still found the experience less than comfortable. Having Mr Collins for curate did not help matters, for he had a tendency to drone on, preaching familiar sermons on familiar scriptures with such little animation in his voice that Richard found his attention wandering. He counted the stones that held the high ceilings aloft, admired the stained glass window, imagined what it would be like to be standing at the front of the church with Mary by his side, before Mr Collins, and hearing him pronounce them "husband and wife".

 _It is but ten days away!_ he reminded himself, surprised how quickly the named date hurtled towards them. When they had arrived at Rosings the three weeks' wait between engagement and marriage seemed an interminably long time, for having decided on his future he was eager to begin it without delay. Now, he could not help but consider the sheer number of things that needed to be resolved before he and Mary were married. The wedding itself he had only a passing interest in. His own family would be represented by Aunt Catherine, Anne and Darcy. He was marginally disappointed that Georgiana could not be persuaded to attend - or rather, her brother could not be persuaded to send for her, but he did not wish to raise the issue with Darcy once more. His cousin had seemed entirely at odds with himself and everyone at Rosings the past few days, constantly frowning over some problem he would not, or could not, share. His business had gone "as well as could be expected" he had admitted, cryptically, yet as no proposal had materialised yet, Richard was left to wonder what precisely he meant.

He glanced down the length of the pew to where Darcy sat, sandwiched uncomfortably between Anne and Elizabeth, and wondered what riot of thoughts his cousin's frown disguised. Darcy stared straight ahead, fixing Mr Collins with a glare that was almost violent, yet Richard fancied he did not hear a word that tripped from the poor curate's mouth.

 _Whereas I am rapt to attention!_ Richard thought, with a barely disguised chuckle. The sound drew Mary's attention, and she raised a questioning glance towards him. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, and she returned her gaze forwards, giving Mr Collins the very attention he deserved. His bride was far better than he, and far better than he deserved! He marvelled at her concern for Christian charity and had even - although he would die before admitting it - tracked down a copy of the wretched Fordyce's she had referred to once before, attempting to read it and understand the values she held so highly. In truth, he had not yet succeeded in choking down more than a few pages before succumbing to inevitable sleep. Perhaps, once they were married, she might summarise it for him, and relay only the sections he most needed to consider, so that he might be spared reading the whole thing. He would much rather spend his time reading the news reports, or some account of a battle, which he found altogether more thrilling than some dreary parson's ruminations on a life well lived.

The curate before him began to draw his own lengthy sermon to a close, and there was a shift in the energy within the small chapel, with ageing patriarchs blinking into consciousness, while their wives surreptitiously returned their attention to their Bibles, rather than considering their neighbours' potential for gossip after the service. Richard and Mary were still the focus of a great deal of attention within the small parish, although the majority of those who recalled him from his youth, or wished to be introduced to the happy couple had done so last week. It had been surprising to Richard, how many wished to know of their plans for the future, and despite his insistence on being at ease with their nebulous intentions, he could not help but admit he was beginning to wish for a resolution. It must be that which made him so eager for the day of their wedding to arrive.

One last rousing hymn, selected by design to insist those church members who slumbered were given adequate reason to wake, and the service drew formally to a close.

"I thought it a fine sermon," Mary whispered. "Did not you?"

"Fine," Richard agreed, with a wide smile. "Very, ah, interesting." He prayed his bride would not quiz him on it further, for he certainly could recall only the very vaguest notion of its contents.

Mary returned his smile, but her eyes sparkled as if to suggest she did not believe a word of it and was only too aware that his attention had wandered before Mr Collins had reached his second sentence.

"I confess I am glad to be marrying someone altogether more Christian than I!" he whispered. "You must bear with me, in my quest for reform."

"Reform?" Mary teased.

Richard laughed, curtailing it only as he recalled their surroundings. Mary had captured his heart immediately, but he was amazed at how she grew in his esteem since their engagement. She had relaxed, somehow, and was more than willing to return his humour in her own shy way.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam!" Mr Collins segued close to them, for Lady Catherine had busied herself speaking to her friends, and Darcy, Elizabeth and Anne seemed engaged in their own conversation. Richard forced a welcoming smile onto his face and noticed Mary's was rather more genuine than his own. How did she manage to spare such affection for so irritating a fellow?

"Good morning, Mr Collins," he said, shaking the man's limp hand energetically. He noticed the curate's eyes widen in surprise or pain, and loosened his grip. "Apologies," he muttered.

"Ah, none required, none required!" Mr Collins laughed, but he snatched his hand away, and wrung it absent-mindedly with the other. "How fare my soon-to-be-weds?" He beamed at them.

"Very well, thank you," Mary said.

"Good, good, and how - how is your sister, Miss - ah - Miss Mary?"

He tried to crane his neck past Mary to see Elizabeth, but Richard was amused to see his bride angle her own body so that his view remained obscured.

"She is very well, Mr Collins. Quite content."

"I see." He hesitated. "I do not suppose she has - that is, I wonder, has she, ah, has she mentioned _me_ at all?"

"You?" Mary raised her eyebrows, as if such a notion were a great surprise to her. "Dear me, ought she to have?"

Richard could barely contain his amusement at the way she managed her cousin, and had to momentarily duck his head to prevent his smile from betraying them.

"Oh!" Mr Collins looked crestfallen. "I wondered if she might have had a little time to consider…that is, I rather hoped -"

"I felt quite sure that you had discussed all you needed to back at Netherfield," Mary said, briskly. "I am sure my sister's mind remains unchanged. You see, how contentedly she associates with Miss de Burgh and Mr Darcy?" She rattled off the two names brightly, yet Richard could not have been alone in noticing the emphasis she placed on Darcy's name. Indeed, Mr Collins' eyebrows launched heavenwards. His jaw fell open.

"Is she-? Has he-?" His hands flew to his cheeks in amazement. "Well, I would not dream of standing in the way of - that is, how could I ever hope to compare to - Indeed, I can hardly…" He did not seem capable of finishing a single sentence, his thoughts had clearly raced on ahead of his lips, and at last, he gave up, bowing politely - too politely, but Richard would hardly take the man to task over his piety at present - and hurrying away.

"There," Mary murmured, with a decisive nod.

"Remind me to put you to the task of dealing with any problematic callers we may receive in future, Mary dear," Richard said, sliding his hand across to hers and giving it a congratulatory squeeze. "I had no idea you were so able a manager."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam!" Mary smiled at him, her eyes sparkling once more, in a reflection of her sister's. "I do believe you met my mother. One cannot live almost twenty years in the house of such a woman and not learn one or two tricks."


	23. Chapter 23

"William, you must show Elizabeth the de Bourgh mausoleum," Anne said, turning to her cousin and friend as soon as the service was ended. Her eyes met Elizabeth's and she smiled. "You must not think me morbid, Elizabeth! I do not suggest it out of any desire to send you walking among the tombstones. It is a very pretty building, though, and the architecture is something to be remarked upon. I should imagine you will like it, and it will not delay you too long." She pulled a face. "I imagine we will not be in any hurry to return to Rosings, for Mama must speak to all of her friends."

"Do you not wish to accompany us? Three can admire a building just as easily as two can," Elizabeth asked.

Darcy held his breath, for he had half wondered if this was his opportunity to speak, at last, and indeed, it seemed that his cousin had read his mind, for with a polite shake of the head she declined.

"I shall sit here a while longer if you do not mind. I am rather tired."

He would have been concerned to hear such words from his cousin's lips, had it not been for the sly glance Anne herself sent him, the moment Elizabeth's head was turned. He groaned, and rolled his eyes skywards. Were both of his cousins working together, now, to orchestrate his life on his behalf? Nonetheless, he was grateful in this instance for Anne's intervention. He recalled the mausoleum she spoke of, and she was right, it was a pretty building. Not dreary in that way that many memorials to those dearly departed could be, but a light, airy place, surrounded by a canopy of trees and flowers sure to appeal to Elizabeth's eyes, which were quick to notice and appreciate beauty, particularly in nature.

"Oh, you need not worry about me!" Anne reassured Elizabeth, clasping her hand warmly. "I am quite well, just rather too comfortable here to consider the merits of traipsing around a graveyard. I shall leave that to you and William!" She laughed, and turned to Mary and Richard, who easily widened their small circle to include his cousin in it.

Thus dismissed, Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth, who did not take it, but rose beside him all the same, and they walked towards the door. It was with still more relief that Darcy realised they would manage to escape without needing to shake Mr Collins' hand, for despite positioning himself by the exit, that he might ensnare each of his parishioners in turn, his attention was, at that moment, rapt on the words of a wealthy older gentleman, and so Darcy was able to steer Elizabeth past the pair without even drawing their notice.

As they wound their way past weathered stones towards the de Bourgh monument, Darcy began constructing his opening words. He had been at the task for hours now. Days, even, yet he discarded every version he had come up with. Too sudden. Too vague. Too romantic. That had quickly been dismissed. Even thinking the words in the silence and privacy of his own mind had been too terrifyingly intimate to Darcy and he had shelved them immediately. No, Elizabeth would not be won by sentiment. She was likely to find it as unusual coming from his lips as he would feel saying it. Better to be straightforward. Business-like, for it was a business arrangement, after a fashion. He dared not hope she loved him as he loved her - for he had come to acknowledge it _was_ love he felt for the clever, spirited young woman who walked beside him with such energy. Love was no sound foundation to build a marriage on though. Darcy had seen enough of society to know that feelings were fleeting and to enter into life together based only on one's current affections was poor planning indeed. Yet he did not only love Elizabeth, he felt certain, had felt the certainly growing with each conversation they shared, each thrust and parry conversation, that he _liked_ her as well. It was that liking, combined with the business-like offer he might make that would, he hoped, make the match a successful one. If only she would say yes.

They reached the crypt and he drew a breath, conscious that time was short and he must speak now or lose the opportunity along with his nerve.

"Miss Elizabeth," he began.

"Is this the mausoleum?" Elizabeth lifted her gaze to admire the stonework Anne had mentioned. "Your cousin is right, it is indeed a beautiful monument."

"It is." He did not look at it, indeed he was scarcely aware of their surroundings at all.

"Miss Elizabeth?" he began again, determined to say his piece now, before the conversation twisted out of his control.

She said nothing but turned to give him her full attention.

"I wonder if I might ask a question concerning your - ah - your future, once my cousin and your sister are married. Will you - do you intend on returning to Longbourn?"

Elizabeth hesitated, a shadow crossing her face.

"Did Lady Catherine charge you with discovering my plans?"

"I hope you do not misunderstand my reason for asking," Darcy said, shaking his head. "Certainly you are welcome to remain as my aunt's guest even once Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Mary leave -"

Elizabeth snorted.

"I rather think it would be wise of you to consult with your aunt, Mr Darcy, before making generous offers of her hospitality to those she is not fond of."

Darcy blanched. He had gleaned that his aunt had taken some dislike to Elizabeth, but could not believe her ill-mannered enough to speak of her true feelings to Elizabeth's face.

"Do not look so surprised, Mr Darcy! Your aunt is a kind host, and polite as manners dictate she must be, but I am not a fool. I well understand her opinion of me. It must in part be formed from her knowledge of my refusal of Mr Collins." She paused. "I do not doubt she and my mother would agree on that."

Darcy's heart beat escalated. Here, she had unwittingly provided him with the perfect introduction, an ideal frame on which to hang his question.

"You remain steadfast in your refusal?" He could not quite keep the hopeful note out of his voice, wishing only that she might not detect it. True to his hopes, she did not, evidently imagining some element of criticism lay beneath instead.

"Steadfast? Yes, sir, I do." She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with her own, fiery one, as if daring him to counter her.

"I am glad." He half muttered the words, but still, they did not escape her notice. Her brow settled into a frown of disbelief, and then, of confusion.

"Do you recall, Miss Elizabeth, that I spoke to you of solutions to the dilemma posed you by Mr Collins' unfortunate proposal?"

Elizabeth said nothing, but a slight relaxing of her frown indicated she did, indeed, remember, and gave him permission to continue.

"Marriage, Miss Bennet. It occurs to me that your mother wishes you wed, your father too, and they fix on Mr Collins as the most likely candidate. I would like to offer another in his stead."

"Oh?" One word, laden with challenge.

"Myself."


	24. Chapter 24

"You?" Elizabeth could scarcely force her lips around the word. She was utterly incredulous. Of all the solutions she had imagined Mr Darcy poised to offer her, the suggestion of marriage had not numbered among them. "Mr Darcy, you have befuddled me. Please, speak plainly, for I am certain I misunderstand you -"

"You do not." He spoke quietly, carefully, his voice betraying no emotion.

The situation was so bizarre that it struck her as amusing, but sensing some seriousness about his manner, she bit back her laugh, disguising it as a cough.

"Surely…" she paused. "Surely you cannot mean to _propose marriage_ to me, Mr Darcy?"

"I can, and I do." It was his turn to clear his throat. "I see you find the suggestion a strange one. Here, I will explain my reasoning in the simplest and most straightforward manner I can. It occurs to me that our situations are similar, Miss Bennet. Your family wishes you married - in this instance, to Mr Collins, in order to preserve the family rights to Longbourn." He held a hand up, stemming her instinctive commentary. She bit her tongue and allowed him to continue. "Have you not noticed the predicament I, myself, am in, which mirrors your own?" He took a breath. "That is: my aunt wishes to fix a marriage between my cousin Anne and I. She has willed it so since we were but children, and every year that passes she becomes more wedded to the idea." His lips quirked. "If you would pardon the pun. Anne is my cousin, and, I think you will agree with me, a very charming young woman, but I do not wish to marry her. Nor does she care for me in that way. It would be wrong, then, to force her into a marriage solely to appease her mother, although it is not entirely easy to avoid my aunt's machinations without offering some reason for it."

"And you think I might offer you a reason?" Lizzy asked, at last seeing the wisdom of his plan.

"I think we might assist one another in our distress."

"And avoid marrying without love by…marrying without love?" Lizzy frowned.

"Without love, perhaps," Mr Darcy conceded, with a slight grimace. "Yet surely we might agree on the fact that we like one another, Miss Bennet. We get on well together, do we not? Now that our first disagreement is behind us."

This, at least, provoked a slight smile to settle over Darcy's immovable features.

"I don't - I cannot -"

Elizabeth struggled to make her lips work to form the words that rushed around her mind. Mr Darcy was proposing to marry her himself, instead of Mr Collins. He was by far the preferable alternative, and even Mrs Bennet could not dispute Lizzy's throwing over a curate and heir to Longbourn, for Mr Darcy of Pemberley, surely?

"You need not answer straight away," Mr Darcy said, sensing her dismay. "I understand this is a serious decision and requires some consideration, thus I will not pressure you to an immediate response."

"Let me be sure I am clear, Mr Darcy," Lizzy said, taking a deep, steadying breath. "You propose we marry - you and I - and build our life together, in order that we might not be bound to marry those others would choose for us. Yet you say nothing of affection, nothing of -" her voice almost died away on the word. " _Love."_

A nerve in Mr Darcy's jaw twitched, and Lizzy's heart sank. Did he so despise the notion of love that it caused him physical discomfort?

"You said yourself, I am not a romantic man. I would not take you for a fool by acting the part now." He paused. "No, Miss Bennet, I am not a romantic man, but I am a pragmatic one, and thus I trust that even you can see the wisdom of this plan. We might have a marriage of minds, if not of hearts - for I am sure you still dispute whether I do in fact possess one of those." His lips cracked in a wry smile, and Elizabeth stared at him in surprise. "But I am not an unkind man, nor a foolish one. I can offer you a position in society far above that presented by Mr Collins, and we might make our home at Pemberley, in Derbyshire, or in London, or, indeed, anywhere else you might choose."

Lizzy's eyes darted this way and that, trying to make sense of all that he was offering her. An estate, a position she could heretofore only dream of! _Mrs Elizabeth Darcy_ , my, how well the name sounded! Her heart sank. There must be some catch, some problem she was overlooking.

"Why?" she asked faintly.

"I have explained my own situation, regarding my aunt and my cousin." Mr Darcy responded, primly.

 _His cousin!_ This brought Elizabeth's own concerns about Anne rushing to mind Did Darcy know Anne loved another? Was he removing himself from her reach so that she might be free to pursue a future with George Martin?

"I did not before now believe you so approving of marriages when each partner is of so different a social position," she began, tentatively wondering if she might dare to raise the issue of Anne's future happiness directly.

Darcy frowned.

"I am a gentleman: you are the daughter of a gentleman. I confess I may previously, erroneously, have thought us different, too different ever to find a way forward." He bowed his head. "I have since seen the error of my ways. Is it not, after all, character which dictates a person's values, and not merely the position they hold in society?"

Elizabeth could not argue with this, touched as she was by his allusion to his change of heart. If Mr Darcy could overcome his own pride and offer her a marriage in spite of his early prejudice towards her, might she not at least consider it? Truly, it spoke of more character than she had previously imagined him capable of having.

"It is too much - too sudden," she began, at last.

"You need not respond straight away," he repeated. "Please, take some time to consider all I have said. I would not rush you to a conclusion before you are ready." He glanced over his shoulder, acknowledging the crowds that were spilling from the church. "Come, Miss Elizabeth, the rest of our party look set to depart. Let us join them."

Wordlessly, Elizabeth nodded, and fell into step beside him.

 _Might this be my life? Walking side by side with Mr Darcy as not only his friend, but his wife?_ She blinked, unsure at that moment whether the thought thrilled her or left her despairing.


	25. Chapter 25

"…Mary, I fancy you have not heard a single word I have uttered in the last five minutes!" Colonel Fitzwilliam's voice was gently teasing, but Mary flushed a guilty red. They were sitting together in a small sitting room at Rosings.

"I am sorry, Richard." She smiled a little, still unused to calling him by his Christian name, even though they were so soon to be married. "You are right, I was distracted. Please, tell me again."

"No, no." Richard chuckled. "I shall not burden you with my concerns when your mind clearly longs to be elsewhere. What is the matter, dear?"

Mary frowned. "I do not know, except…" She paused. "Did the silence on our journey home from the church strike you as odd?"

"Silence?" Richard laughed again, properly this time. "We must have been in different carriages, for I certainly was not aware of any silence. Aunt Catherine talked just as much as ever, in fact, none of the rest of us could get a word in alongside her reflections on the day."

"But that is precisely my point," Mary said. "Did not you notice how she tried - and failed! - to draw Mr Darcy into conversation? He would scarcely answer her, indeed, he hardly seemed even to hear her."

"That is not anything to comment upon. You know almost as well as I do that my cousin is not well known as a conversationalist."

"But he was not the only one," Mary protested. She tried to put her thoughts into words that Colonel Fitzwilliam might understand, not knowing Elizabeth as well as she did. "Lizzy was…distracted, somehow. She kept her eyes fixed on the scenery as it passed, and would not be brought into the conversation by myself or by Anne, or even, once, by Lady Catherine!"

"And this strikes you as unusual?"

"Indeed!" Mary nodded her head, vigorously. "My sister is rarely so quiet, unless something concerns her."

Richard leaned back in his chair.

"Well, if you are sure there is some problem, why are you tarrying to talk to me?" He clasped Mary's hand warmly. "I can see your care at present is for your sister: please, do go and reassure yourself that she is as well and as happy as she can be expected to be."

"You do not mind?"

"Mary, dear!" Richard laughed. "We shall have the rest of our lives to be together. I might manage to spare you for an afternoon."

She smiled, and darted away towards the door, pausing only as she heard his languid voice call after her.

"Only for an afternoon, mind! You must be by my side this evening, for Aunt Catherine spent half the morning discussing our wedding with her friends: I cannot face her inquisition alone!"

Mary turned back quickly to nod at him and then scurried up the stairs towards Elizabeth's room. Knocking lightly, she could not help but remember the last time she had been in this position, in Longbourn, and how her concern for Lizzy's well-being had pressed her to encourage her sister to accompany her to Rosings. This time, a tiny flicker of anticipation burned in her chest. Elizabeth had been quiet, yes, but so had Mr Darcy! Surely that meant something?

A murmur from within gave Mary the confidence to push the door open, and she entered, to see Elizabeth sitting on a chair by the window, staring listlessly out towards the gardens. She scarcely looked up to greet her sister, so Mary took a deep breath, and crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking with concern at Elizabeth.

"Is anything the matter?" she asked, with an affectation of ease.

Lizzy glanced up, then, her features relaxing briefly into a smile.

"Oh, Mary!" she said. "I am so glad you are here. You must help me to make a decision."

Mary's heart began to pound a little quicker. Lizzy looked so unlike herself. Her forehead was creased into a frown, and her cheeks were drawn and pale. Her eyes were still undeniably bright, though, and darted around the room, before returning to Mary's face.

"Mr Darcy and I - that is, he has asked me to marry him."

"Marry?" It was too much to hope for! Mary almost clapped her hands, rejoicing that Jane's plan had come to fruition, and with scarcely the need for any intervention from her.

"Yes," Lizzy said, her voice faint. "It is quite ridiculous, is it not? I cannot possibly say yes."

"Why not?" Mary's response was sharper than she intended, and Lizzy lifted an anxious glance to her. "I mean, I do not understand why you might not wish to say yes! You do like him, don't you?"

Lizzy laughed, but it was a humourless sound.

"If you had asked me the question three weeks ago I do not doubt my answer would have been different," she conceded. "But our acquaintance has grown since then, and I suppose it is no great shame to confess that yes, I do like him. He is intelligent and kind, and - when one can draw him into conversation - is a clever, witty partner. Only -"

Mary's breath caught, the only sound that she offered as a response to Elizabeth's verbal reasoning.

"I do not _love_ him." She sighed. "I was always so determined that only the greatest affection could induce me to marry, but now, I wonder if I was not being childish to hold to such a view. Certainly, Mama does not hold it, nor Father, and even Charlotte Lucas told me in no uncertain terms that I must let go of the idea and consider my future security as the most important concern in deciding upon marriage. What do you think, Mary?"

Mary felt the colour drain from her cheeks. This was an important question, and it fell to her to give a still more important answer, for she felt certain that what she said in this room would determine Elizabeth course of action, and thus, her future happiness.

"I think," she began, frowning as she carefully considered her words. "I think that to marry for love is one's highest ideal."

"You see?" Elizabeth said, nodding, fervently. "I knew I could not be alone in this. Jane loves Mr Bingley. And you love Colonel Fitzwilliam."

"Yes," Mary conceded. "And yet -"

Elizabeth snapped her gaze up, and Mary struggled to find the words to communicate clearly what she was thinking.

"I do not think love is necessarily the same as we read about in books. And - do not take this as criticism, Lizzy dear, for it is not meant to be - you have read many more books than I. It may grow over time."

"It may not," Elizabeth interjected, in a low voice.

"I think that unlikely," Mary said. "If you marry, if you build a life so entwined with another, how can you fail but grow to love them?" She drew a tentative breath. "And if you _like_ Mr Darcy, if you get on well together, then that is a better start than many might wish for."

"Better certainly, than the other marriage Mama seems intent on forcing me into," Elizabeth acknowledged, with a weary sigh. "And it is only I that speak of love. He, as you well know, is not romantic in the least." She cracked the merest hint of a smile and Mary's spirits began to lift. "He actually referred to it as a business proposition. We might provide one another with a way out of the difficult circumstances we found ourselves trapped in."

"And is Mr Darcy trapped?" Mary asked, recalling Anne de Bourgh's explanation of her mother's wishes for him to marry her. She frowned. "Will this new scheme not leave Anne all alone?" Mary asked, feeling a flare of concern for her new friend.

"No, that is perhaps the best part, and aids me in deciding, for it is clear my marrying must have an impact on all those around me, whoever I choose to marry and whether I marry at all!" Elizabeth's voice was soft, yet she still darted a glance towards the door as if to reassure herself that they were not to be overheard. "I have reason to believe Anne has a shared affection with another gentleman - one her mother will most likely disapprove of, and one whom she certainly might not pursue any kind of friendship with if she is forced into marriage with Mr Darcy. If he is otherwise - if _we_ are married, then at least she might be free to pursue her heart."

Elizabeth sighed.

"You are yet not convinced?" Mary asked, folding her hands in her lap to keep from wringing them in despair. Where was Jane in this? She would be far better to counsel her sister. Could Elizabeth truly not see what was only too apparent to Mary? She did indeed love Mr Darcy, and he loved her. They might call it a practical marriage all they liked, but surely they could not ignore the truth of the matter for long.

"I am reluctant to admit to the wisdom of the plan," Lizzy said, lifting her eyes to Mary's. "Yet I am thankful that it is you, pragmatic, sensible Mary, who is my counsel on the matter. I know this is a wise step to take. Certainly, Mr Darcy is a gentleman. He might provide all I could hope to wish for in life - more! And I know you are right, if I do not love him, at least I respect him, and no doubt love will grow in time." She paused, a strange expression lighting on her face. "I cannot deny I do care for him, though he infuriates me at times." This last was whispered, and Mary wondered if her sister realised she had spoken it aloud. Wisely, she did not respond, merely allowed Elizabeth to reason in silence.

"I believe I must accept him," Elizabeth said, at length. "Though I can scarcely believe I am saying so!" She grinned, looking at last like her old self once more. "Imagine, Mary, what Mama and Father will say when they hear. Imagine Jane's reaction! It is a dream, I am sure. One of those absurd dreams that make real life seem dull and logical, and yet I have pinched myself blue and still have not awoken."

"Lizzy!" Mary laughed. "How can you have gone from romance to logic in the span of one conversation?"

"I can scarcely say!" Elisabeth said, smiling. "I hardly know myself, or my life, and yet I imagine you felt much the same, upon accepting Colonel Fitzwilliam, and look how happy it has made you both."

Spontaneously, Elizabeth reached over and enfolded her sister in an embrace.

"Thank you, Mary," she murmured into Mary's shoulder. "I am grateful for your counsel and your support. I know now what I must do, though I do not rejoice at the prospect."

 _Yet,_ Mary silently corrected her. _You may not rejoice at it_ yet _, dear, but I am sure you will come to in time…_


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N - you guys! I have no idea what happened but I either missed a chapter or deleted a chapter or...somehow got myself tied up in knots. fml. I'm so sorry! I've gone back and re-uploaded chapter 23 - 26, in order this time and hopefully making more sense. I'm so sorry for the confusion. That's what I get for juggling too many projects! ;)_

 _But, happy news: I'm upping the posting schedule for the rest of the week hoping to have this baby finished and up *completed* by **Friday** , so that we are ready to start book #3 on Monday. That on is as-yet untitled, so hopefully inspiration will strike while I'm editing..._

 _Apologies again for the messed up posting. Hopefully won't happen again xxx_

* * *

Lizzy's talk with Mary had settled her nerves considerably. She still could not quite believe that this was happening - that Mr Darcy had asked her to marry him and that she, Lizzy, was poised to accept. She could not refute the wisdom of the match, though, when it offered them both a way forward. And the sense of relief she felt at the question of Mr Collins being so swiftly and decidedly answered was palpable. Her spirits soared and she walked with energy, determined to enjoy some exercise before she sought out Mr Darcy to give him her answer. It was quite by chance, then, that she spotted Anne de Bourgh, sitting on a bench that was surrounded by those flowers that still bloomed in the sheltered Kent Autumn.

"Here is a picture!" she exclaimed, pausing to sit near her friend.

"I did not take you for an artist!" Anne remarked, with a warm smile.

"Indeed, I am not, but I am well able to admire beauty. You make a perfect scene, sitting here amidst the flowers, with the late afternoon sun lighting your golden hair."

"Not an artist, but definitely a wordsmith," Anne said, laughing at Lizzy's poetic description. "How are you, dear Lizzy? You were so quiet after church that I feared you had had some mishap on your visit to the mausoleum. I trust you found it well?"

"Yes, and appreciated its architecture, just as you assured me I would." Elizabeth paused. "You are at least as observant as my sister, Mary, in understanding what others find agreeable. I pride myself on my powers of observation but I am sure you both put me quite to shame."

"We often fail to see that which is unfolding right before our eyes," Anne said. "Particularly as it pertains to us as individuals."

There was a sad note to her voice, and Elizabeth tried to discern her meaning. Might she refer to George Martin, to her secret romance?

"It is difficult, I think," Lizzy ventured. "To be honest about one's feelings when we know others might disapprove."

Anne glanced up, sharply, but Elizabeth continued, undeterred.

"I speak mostly of my own experiences, of course. However, I am bold enough that when a matter is so very important to me, I confess I care more for my own feelings in living through it, than I do of others who wish me to endure." She smiled, self-deprecatingly. "Is that terribly selfish?"

"It is honest, I believe," Anne said, softly. "And brave. I do admire you, Elizabeth. What it must be like to be so confident in one's own abilities and decisions, to be able to overthrow the will of those older or wiser than oneself."

"I do not believe that wisdom and age are inextricably linked," Elizabeth said. "In fact, I think our elders are occasionally blinded to the course of true wisdom by the experience of their years. If one has always acted in a certain way, one must always act in a certain way." She shook her head. "I disagree. The world is constantly moving forward, Anne, and we must move with it, or fear to languish, forgotten, in the past." She laughed. "Oh dear! I seem to be waxing unpleasantly lyrical this afternoon, don't I?"

"I like it," Anne said, firmly. "It is so long since I had young women of my age to associate with that I am quite jealous of you and Mary. Imagine, a house full of sisters, and a built-in group of friends! It must be heavenly."

"Hmmm!" Elizabeth laughed again. "My dear Anne, if I thought your mother would permit it, I would invite you to visit Longbourn, so that you might see how misinformed you are on the nature of sisters. In fact, you will see for yourself on the day of Mary and Colonel Fitzwilliam's wedding. Alas, I love my sisters dearly, but to call them kindred spirits would be to be generous indeed."

Anne smiled, acquiescing to Lizzy's point in the absence of any experience of her own to draw upon. The pair sat quietly together for a moment more, until Lizzy stood.

"Might I press you to walk a few steps with me?"

Anne shook her head.

"I am quite content here, thank you, but please do go and enjoy your walk. If I am still here on your return I will go into the house with you. The sun is so warm for the time of year, and the flowers so beautiful that I am loathed to leave them."

Elizabeth nodded, bidding her friend goodbye, and continued on her walk. She darted a glance over her shoulder and saw Anne pull a scrap of paper from her reticule. _Another letter?_ She smiled. _No wonder Anne wishes for solitude in which to read it._ She felt a flicker of danger, wondering whether she ought to confess her suspicions to her friend, and better counsel her against such behaviour. It was unwise, to exchange letters with a man when there was as yet no agreement in place to their courtship or future marriage. _Yet what other option do they have?_ she reasoned. _Lady Catherine would never permit any connection between them, particularly if she intends Anne to wed Mr Darcy. Her only hope is to reason with her mother once Mr Darcy is married. Then there can be no alternative, and Lady Catherine will surely bow to her daughter's wishes in order to see her happy, even if it is not what she might have chosen._ Even as she thought the words, she acknowledged their difficulty. Lady Catherine was like Mrs Bennet, but, if it were possible, with still firmer will, and Anne was not bold enough to withstand her, she had admitted as much. _Well, then we must help her, Mr Darcy and I. I am sure he wishes to see his cousin happy._

So decided, she was free to enjoy her walk, and found her steps winding towards the walled garden that Mr Darcy had shown her so recently. She recalled their conversation then, the stilted way he had spoken. Had he intended on proposing, even then? That might explain his agitation. Elizabeth felt a flicker of delight in her stomach and tried to quell it. _It is a business arrangement, recall. He said as much. You are merely getting swept up in thought of romance where there is none._

Her silent lecture was somewhat effective, and her excitement had settled into a vague sense of expectation, as she entered the small garden. It was only when she realised the garden was not deserted that her nerves rose once more. The garden's occupant recognised her at the same time she recognised him, and there was a mutual exclamation of surprise that was not unhappy.

"Mr Darcy!" Elizabeth cried.

"Miss Elizabeth, I did so hope we might speak again before the day was out. Have you had any more time to consider my question? Please, do not imagine me to be pressing you to a conclusion, I am merely curious -"

His manner suggested this was not entirely true. "Curious" did not begin to explain the anxious way he walked towards her, or the frown that darkened his already fierce expression. He was in such a state of agitation that Elizabeth thanked Mary silently once more for her counsel. Without it, she, too, would be as unsettled as the man before her, she felt certain. Yet in his case, she possessed, with a few short words, the ability to ease his anxiety.

"Yes, Mr Darcy, I have made my decision." She drew in a short breath, her heart pounding a staccato against her chest. "I accept your proposal."


	27. Chapter 27

Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting in the parlour with Lady Catherine in comfortable silence when Mary joined them. She was easily pressed into playing, and Richard was amused to see the smile tugging at her lips as she pondered a particularly happy secret.

This picture of contentment would only remain undisturbed for an hour more, before the door flew open to admit Darcy and Elizabeth, both smiling and, Richard noticed with interest, scarcely willing to part from one another for more than a moment.

"Fitzwilliam!" Lady Catherine exclaimed. "What possessed you to rush into the room like that? See, you have startled poor Mary out of playing."

Richard glanced over at his bride and thought it entirely likely that "poor Mary" was delighted to cease from playing to allow the news she evidently anticipated to be shared. Richard, too, drew his conclusions and had already stood and crossed the room to shake Darcy's hands before his cousin had uttered the words.

"Miss Bennet has consented to be my wife, Aunt. Will you congratulate us?"

There was a sharp intake of breath from Lady Catherine, but it was ably disguised by the rejoicing of both Richard and Mary, who hurried from her seat at the piano to Elizabeth's side, throwing her arms around her sister.

"It is settled then?" Richard asked, looking carefully at his cousin. Darcy, for his part, seemed more relaxed and happy than he could ever recall seeing him, and could barely contain the smile that lifted his features.

"It is." He turned towards Elizabeth and his smile was muted somewhat. "We spoke this morning, and again this afternoon in the garden, and I know that Mr and Mrs Bennet already approve the match."

"You do?" Elizabeth turned a questioning glance towards him. "You did not tell me as much!"

"I wished to determine your parents' position before putting the question to you," he confessed. "But as your father reminded me in no uncertain terms, their endorsement would have little influence on your decision, so I did not wish to speak of it before now."

Elizabeth's own smile grew.

"You spoke to my father?"

"I did." Darcy's chest lifted in pride. He dropped his voice to murmur that only their small group might catch. "He was more than happy to accept an alternative to the marriage orchestrated by your mother. You must write to him, Elizabeth, and repair any damage to your relationship."

Elizabeth nodded, looking at Darcy as if she did not quite recognise him.

"Well, I am delighted with this news!" Richard said again, reaching for Mary's hand. "To think, when I came to Hertfordshire we were both of us bachelors, and now look! How quickly life can change."

There was a harrumph from behind them, and the group parted, each young person turning to look at Lady Catherine.

"I am glad one of us is "delighted", Richard," she said, drawing herself up slowly to her full height. "I cannot say the same of my own feelings." She glared, first at Darcy and then at Elizabeth. Her voice dropped dangerously low, and Richard found himself unconsciously shifting so that he was a little in front of Mary, as if he were protecting her from a dragon and not his own aunt. _At this moment, I am lost to determine the difference!_ he thought, with a desperate flicker of amusement.

"The marriage cannot happen," Lady Catherine said, firmly. "Or have you forgotten your position, Fitzwilliam?"

"On the contrary, I am most aware of it," Darcy countered. "Both Elizabeth and I are children of gentlemen, neither of us is otherwise engaged, there is no obstacle I can see that will prevent us from marrying."

"No obstacle?!" Lady Catherine screeched. "And what, pray, do you call your own cousin? You and Anne have been betrothed since childhood - that is as binding as any engagement might be."

"I beg to differ, Aunt," Darcy said, deference giving way to irritation. Richard glanced back at him, surprised to see his well-mannered cousin already reacting with such anger towards the woman he usually treated with such respect. He could not fault him, for Lady Catherine's objections, though not surprising, were nonetheless not to succeed.

"Neither Anne nor I wish to marry one another. We never have, and no amount of engineering on your part will force it to happen. I have made my choice." He reached for Elizabeth's hand, and after half a moment's hesitation, she offered it. The hesitation did not escape Richard's attention. There was some edge, still, to their interaction. Could it merely be nerves? They seemed happy with their decision to marry, indeed, but there was not quite the expression of affection he had imagined, nor the ease of being together that had settled over him and Mary the instant their engagement was agreed.

Lady Catherine said nothing at first, yet a riot of emotion played across her features as she clearly debated how best to respond.

"I am not surprised," she said, at length. "It seemed apparent to me that Miss Bennet is a most conniving individual, and, not content with breaking my curate's heart with her flighty ways, has proceeded to ensnare you, Fitzwilliam." She glared at him with disdain. "Frankly, I thought you more intelligent than this."

"There, again, you are misguided, Aunt," Darcy's voice was low, dangerously quiet. "Elizabeth has done nothing to _ensnare_ me, indeed, if either one of us had to persuade it was the other way around. I posed the question, quite unexpectedly. If you must be angry at either of us, it must be me."

Lady Catherine gasped, then turned and stalked out of the room. The door barely closed behind her before the group could hear a theatrical stream of sobs coming from her retreating figure.

"Well," Richard said, turning back to his cousin. "We escaped with our skins. I think she took it rather well."

He shrugged off the murderous glare Darcy shot him and turned to Mary, guiding her back towards a seat, and gesturing to Darcy and Elizabeth to follow.

"Now, let us talk details. When shall you marry? Where? I hardly think poor Mr Collins willing or able to conduct such a service. Not when his patroness is so vehemently opposed."

Elizabeth's upright posture sagged, then, and he hurried to reassure her.

"Yet you need not fret. Darcy is well positioned enough that you might marry anywhere. Surely a special licence would not be too difficult to obtain?"

"No, indeed," Darcy said. "And I think it the wisest course of action."

"Ought I -" Elizabeth faltered. "Ought I to leave?"

"No!"

"Definitely not!"

"Oh, Lizzy, please stay!"

A chorus of voices stilled her in this suggestion before she had even fully made it.

"It is but a few days until our wedding," Richard commented. "Surely we might all ride out the storm until then. Then, once you have seen your family, you might decide where best to remove to."


	28. Chapter 28

"But a few days" was scarcely to be endured, when Lady Catherine de Bourgh was against you, as Elizabeth soon found out. She kept to her room as much as possible, prevented from the glorious outdoors by the torrential rain that began that very evening and continued, unabated, for two days straight. Meals, however, were not to be avoided, although Lady Catherine took the first few in her room and was, as she relayed via her servants, "far too unwell to take more than a morsel of food, and certainly did not wish to see anybody."

Had it not been for Anne, Elizabeth would have fled Rosings before the end of the day that she and Mr Darcy had announced their engagement. As it was, she felt uncomfortably as if she were outstaying her welcome.

"Nonsense!" Anne had dismissed her out of hand. "You are not to go anywhere, at least not until your family come. It's only a few days more and we are all so very pleased to have you." There was a thump from overhead, the sound of Lady Catherine grumpily rearranging her room, which she had done on an almost daily basis, as a way of showing her displeasure without having to actually be in the same room as Elizabeth.

If Elizabeth's response to Lady Catherine's reaction had been to falter, Darcy's was to hold ever firmer to their plan.

"I shall not be dictated to," he insisted. "She has held the spectre of a marriage I did not wish for over my head for more than half my life: I certainly shall not abandon my own wishes merely to appease her."

"Your own wishes?" Elizabeth turned his own words back upon him. "You said yourself it is but a business arrangement. Is any arrangement worth damaging one's family?"

"Did you consider the fate of your family when you flatly refused to marry Mr Collins?"

They were walking, as had become their tradition, despite the weather. Whenever there was a break in the rain, Elizabeth wished to be out of doors and away from the ministrations of Lady Catherine. Darcy had accompanied her on her first venture, evidently fearing she might do some injury to life or limb, with the agitation which compelled her into motion. Since then it had, much to Elizabeth's surprise, become the favourite part of her day.

"You know I did!" Lizzy protested. "But the situation is hardly the same. My family lamented me rejecting a marriage, yours wishes you would."

"I cannot reject what I have first sought," Darcy maintained. "No, Aunt Catherine will relent in time. In any case, it is not as if I am jilting my cousin to marry you. Neither one of us wished for the wedding. I rather fancy my own mother would have objected the union, had she lived long enough to know of it." Darcy grimaced. He had explained to Elizabeth how often Lady Catherine had held the memory of his mother over his head, as a compelling force in directing his activities. He had begun to wonder, of late, whether any of the wishes Lady Catherine attributed to the late Anne Darcy had indeed originated with his mother, or whether they were Lady Catherine's wishes only, given additional legitimacy with the invocation of Darcy's mother's name.

"Perhaps she sees Anne alone, and you and Colonel Fitzwilliam both matched," Lizzy began. She had long wished to raise the issue of Anne's secret romance with Mr Darcy, yet still feared what his response might be. Whilst she could appreciate the romance of keeping such a liaison secret, and the necessity of doing so, when faced with Lady Catherine de Bourgh, but she rather fancied Darcy would not view the matter so sympathetically.

"Yet Anne does not want for company," Darcy said, with a philosophical shrug. "In truth, she values her solitude, as do I. No, that cannot be it. It is merely her dislike of anyone or anything disrupting her plans." He grinned, and Elizabeth felt a sudden realisation that she rather liked this rebellious side to the usually upstanding Mr Darcy. "Well, we need not endure it much longer: tomorrow your parents and sisters arrive, and Mary and my cousin will marry, and thence to the north. We might accompany them, if you wish? I shall arrange for a special licence. How would you like to marry at Pemberley?"

 _Pemberley_. The word was still something of a talisman to Elizabeth. She knew little of the place, although Darcy had at last been pressed to afford her some description. He spoke logically, gentlemanly, of acreages and maintenance and land value. He told her next to nothing of what she truly wished to know: the history of the place. Some description of its interiors, a picture she might hold on to before seeing the place for herself.

"Georgiana will be there, of course," Darcy continued.

Elizabeth's ears pricked up. "Your sister? Oh, I rather fear she will not think me suitable for her brother."

"Nonsense!" Darcy scoffed. "If anything, she will think me unsuitable for you."

"Will she know the - the true nature of our agreement?"

Darcy did not falter for a moment.

"I am yet to write, but shall do so this afternoon, in advance of our journeying there. She will no doubt be glad to hear of my marrying, for she, like many other women in my life, wish only to see me "settled". He grimaced. "As if I could not have achieved such a state as a single man."

There was a wistful note in his voice that Elizabeth fancied suggested that, despite his bravado, he, too, felt the impossibility of such a thing.

"I shall be glad to see Jane again," Elisabeth remarked, as they turned a corner and began their journey back towards the house. "I wrote to inform her of the news, as you know, although she is, at present, sworn to secrecy."

"And will she manage such a thing?" Darcy's voice was light, teasing, but Elizabeth leapt on him.

"My sister is the very soul of discretion!"

"Of this particular sister, I will indeed agree. She is undoubtedly the most sensible, excluding Mary and yourself, of course." He paused. "You did not write to inform your mother of the news?"

Elizabeth groaned.

"Had I done so, we would have heard the shrieks even from Longbourn. No, Mr Darcy, you must witness her rapture first-hand, when we tell them tomorrow."

"I wait with anticipation," he grumbled, in a tone of voice that suggested he could think of few fates he less wished for himself or any other.

"Our families notwithstanding," Elizabeth ventured, after a few moments of quiet progress. "You do not regret our plan?"

"I do not," Mr Darcy insisted. "I know you might have preferred the sweeping romance of some novel, but might security and companionship be balm enough, in its absence?"

Elizabeth nodded, although her heart sank a little at his matter-of-fact tone of voice. She had become swept up in the idea of marriage - and marriage to Mr Darcy. She had begun, oh so very slightly, to imagine it a marriage not of convenience, but of choice - of his choosing her, and she him. When she looked at him, she could not help but appreciate the handsome line of his features, the way his dark eyes contained multitudes of feelings he did not often share, and rendered all the more important when he did, as he had begun to do on these walks of theirs. She began to appreciate him more, and look forward to their life together. _But I do not love him_ , she reminded herself. _If we might be friends and spend our life together contentedly, that is more than I might have hoped for, either with Mr Collins or no man at all by my side._ As Mrs Elizabeth Darcy she would have status and consequence, - and an aunt who despised her.

"Do you regret your acceptance?" Mr Darcy asked, seeing her face fall. "It is not too late, if you do -"

"I do not," she said, quietly, firmly. "I think - I think we might manage to be happy tougher, Mr Darcy."

"As do I, Miss Elizabeth."


	29. Chapter 29

"Here they are!"

Mary had been haunting the front windows of Rosings, surprisingly eager to spot the advance of the carriage that would bring her family to Kent.

"It has felt like an age since last we saw them," she remarked to Richard, who sat with her, affecting to read, but in truth enjoying the quiet morning with his bride-to-be.

"It may as well have been an age," he said, with a smile. "So much has happened.

He was right: Mary had made the final arrangements for their wedding, which would take place the very next morning, and Richard had made plans to visit his brother, Philip, in London, shortly afterwards. Mr Fitzwilliam had business in town, he said, and would be delighted to host the newlyweds at his house for a visit.

"Delighted to pass judgment," Richard had remarked, with a frown. He had not shown Mary the letter, but folded it and shoved it, unceremoniously, into his pocket.

The carriage rumbled to a stop, and Kitty and Lydia were the first to burst from its dark interior, scarcely waiting for their footman to open the door.

"Elizabeth ought to be here as well," Mary said, wringing her hands. "They will surely wish to see her."

"And they will." Richard hauled himself to his feet and crossed to her side, taking her hands in his and stilling her anxious fidgeting with a smile. "But they will, without doubt, be eager to see _you_ too."

The door to the parlour flew open, as if to illustrate the truth of Richard's words.

"Where is Mary?" Lydia demanded. "Oh, look! You are here waiting to greet us, just as you ought!" She hurried forward and pulled Mary into a not-entirely-gentle embrace. After a moment too long for comfort, she was released, and Lydia turned a wicked grin toward Richard.

"Now, Colonel Fitzwilliam, might I warrant an affectionate greeting from you, too? We are to be related, after all."

"Indeed we are, Miss Lydia, and I rejoice at it, but if you will excuse me I must ensure your mother and father are in need of no assistance."

Bowing in a way that caused first Lydia and then Kitty, who had followed close on her sister's heels, to giggle, he departed.

Mary let out a breath that she had not been aware of holding, and gestured for her sisters to join her in sitting.

"Oh, I have missed you both." It was not a lie - whilst she had often despaired of her sisters' rowdy behaviour at Longbourn, Rosings had been so quiet of late as to be a trial to Mary's nerves, particularly after Lady Catherine's self-imposed exile.

The door opened again, admitting Mrs Bennet, on Richard's arm, and closely followed by Mr Bennet, accompanying Jane and Anne, who offered profuse apologies for her mother's present absence on account of a headache.

"She is not too unwell, I hope?" Jane asked, her voice filled with concern. "Perhaps we ought to call another time instead?"

Before Anne could answer, Mrs Bennet had sallied forth.

"Nonsense, Jane! I could not dream of not seeing Mary before her wedding, and we have only today - for tomorrow we shall return to Longbourn as soon as the wedding is over." She cast a pointed glare at her husband that suggested she did not approve of the fleeting nature of their visit but had, in this instance, been overruled.

"Of course you must stay," Anne insisted, with a warm smile. "I am sure Mama will join us shortly."

"Mary." Mrs Bennet settled herself in a comfortable chair and beckoned her daughter over to her. "How do you fare, dear? And Colonel Fitzwilliam, you look well. Are you excited for tomorrow?" Her voice took on a teasing, confidential tone that Mary could not recall her mother ever applying to her before that afternoon.

"Very much, Mrs Bennet. And your presence ensures the day will be all the more special."

"Will your own family not be in attendance?" Mrs Bennet asked Richard, laughing apologetically. "Beyond your aunt and cousin, of course."

"And Mr Darcy," Lydia piped up. "Is he not with you?"

"Yes, and where has Elizabeth got to?" Jane asked, a worried frown crossing her face.

"Perhaps they are together!" Lizzy said, with a sly laugh.

"They are walking in the grounds," Anne said, lightly. "But we expect their return before long."

Mrs Bennet's mouth fell open in surprise, and before Mary could think of something to say, Richard threw himself into the breach.

"It will be a small wedding, Mrs Bennet, for as I am sure you will appreciate, we are eager to marry and not delay in order to accommodate the arrival of more guests. I am conscious of not outstaying our welcome in Kent, with everything that has happened - and so we will go on to London directly." He paused and Mary lifted her eyes to his, sending him a smile that she hoped was encouraging. It must have been, for he continued speaking a moment later.

"My brother will be in London, and we shall stay with him there. It is quite some time since we were together."

This was delivered very stiffly and Lydia opened her mouth to quiz Richard further on his mysterious brother, sensing some delicious gossip, but before she could say a word, the door opened and Elizabeth and Mr Darcy walked in.

"I thought I heard voices!" Lizzy remarked, sweeping a tentative glance around her family before returning to Mary.

"Lizzy!" Jane rose and greeted her sister with a warm embrace. "How are you?" She peered behind her. "And Mr Darcy, how nice to see you once more."

"And I you, Miss Bennet. I trust Hertfordshire is as we left it?"

They fell to a brief discussion of Netherfield and its tenants, but Mary could scarcely tear her eyes away from Elizabeth's. After a moment, Richard cleared his throat and turned all attention to his cousin.

"Actually, this is perhaps as good a time as any, Darcy. You must tell Elizabeth's family your news."

Acknowledging his cousin withal deep bow, Darcy nodded. Glancing at Elizabeth for reassurance in a way Mary found endearing, he spoke, quietly, addressing the room with confidence.

"My cousin is quite right, for we ought not to keep it a secret, and it is bound to be talked of when my aunt joins us." A pause. "I have asked Miss Elizabeth to marry me, and am delighted to say that she has accepted. We shall be wed before the month is out."


	30. Chapter 30

"But - Lizzy, when did this happen? How?" Mrs Bennet was in utter shock, and bid the news be relayed at least three times before she accepted its truth.

"Mr Bennet!" She turned, accusing, to her husband. "You do not seem in the least bit surprised. It cannot be you had some notion of such a thing?"

"I confess complete ignorance, my dear," Mr Bennet replied, with a sanguine glance at Darcy. "Yet even you must acknowledge how preferable Mr Dray shall be for a son-in-law than Mr Collins."

"Oh! Lizzy!" This provoked a still deeper outpouring of affection from mother to daughter, and Elizabeth was swept up in an embrace from her mother which seemed, to Darcy, practically inescapable.

He felt momentarily guilty that their announcement had shifted the focus of familial attention off Mary to her sister, but one glance at how contentedly Mary and Richard sat, watching the melodrama unfold around Elizabeth reassured him that they did not regret no longer being the centrepiece.

There was the sound of a door closing, and heavy footsteps on the stairs announced Lady Catherine's intent to join her guests. Darcy's gaze flew to his cousins - first Richard, then Anne, who stood and made for the door.

"Mama!" she cried, as Lady Catherine drew within sight of the hall. "Do come and join us! The Bennets are here."

"I gathered as much," Lady Catherine said, coolly. "Was not their arrangement to call at two o'clock?"

"It is barely a quarter of an hour after, Aunt," Darcy put in. "And they have been seated some time already. We did not wish to disturb -"

"I am well able to tell the time, Fitzwilliam," Lady Catherine said, with a dismissive sniff. "Now, Mary, dear." She turned directly to the one Bennet daughter she thought worthy of her attention. "Introduce me to your family. My, my. I had forgotten you had quite so _many_ sisters."

Mary rattled off quick introductions, as politely as she might, and Darcy was relieved to see both the youngest Miss Bennets and Mrs Bennet comport themselves with due deference sure to win over his aunt. She claimed her usual seat as her own, so that the room took on a palatial air, as if Lady Catherine were holding court, and the Bennets all paying tribute.

"We were just rejoicing at the news, Lady Catherine," Mrs Bennet simpered. "My dear Elizabeth is to marry your other nephew, Mr Darcy. How wonderful!"

"Indeed." Lady Catherine's voice dripped with disdain, but Mrs Bennet either did not, or chose not to, notice.

Richard took a seat beside his aunt and did his best to distract her, describing his plans to visit London with Mary soon after their wedding, and lodge with Philip.

"Philip!" Lady Catherine cheered considerably at the mention of this third, absent, nephew. "Oh, my dear departed brother's _eldest_ son. Why, it has been a great many months since I saw him last. Tell me, Richard, is he well? And darling Louisa, how is she?"

Richard assured her of their health, asserting that he, himself, was not in close contact with his brother either. This was muttered through clenched teeth, and Darcy felt a flare of sympathy for his cousin. Richard's brother was a decade older than either of them, and had considered his younger cousins far beyond his notice. Darcy had never been fond of the man, even in his youth, and, by all accounts, his pride and self-importance had only grown with age. Relations between the brothers had been strained indeed, particularly upon Richard's insistence on joining the military. Philip had made no secret of the expectation he had that Richard would roundly fail at this attempt at a career. In fact, his cousin had outstripped all of their expectations and succeeded well enough to amass a small fortune and the respect of his contemporaries. Darcy did not doubt this, along with his sweet-natured new wife, would do a great deal to repair the rift between the brothers.

"If you are to be in London, Richard, perhaps Elizabeth and I might join you there."

This remark, made solely between the two cousins had the unfortunate fate of being made during a momentary lull in conversation, so that it was given rather more importance than it deserved.

"Oh yes, Mr Darcy!" Mrs Bennet's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Where do you intend on marrying? Perhaps, if you were to procure a special licence -"

Elizabeth cleared her throat, pointedly silencing her mother's commentary.

"I had intended on our marrying at Pemberley," Darcy began, with a glance towards Elizabeth. "But perhaps London would suit just as well. What do you say, Elizabeth?"

"Yes," she said, meeting his gaze carefully. Darcy could well read her intention: if their marriage was one of convenience, so much the better it not be a grand affair.

"Oh," Mrs Bennet sighed, a little put out at the notion of not being invited to witness the wedding at the estate of Pemberley she had heard - and partaken in - so much speculation about. "It will be a shame not to see your estate, Mr Darcy."

"No doubt you will be invited there in time, Mrs Bennet," Lady Catherine said, drily. "Now that your daughter will attempt to be mistress of it." She sniffed, as if to indicate that the idea was a ridiculous one.

"I am sure Lizzy will take to her new role with aplomb," Jane said, loyally, winning for a wrathful glare for herself from Darcy's aunt.

"I will make arrangements as soon as tomorrow concludes," Darcy said.

"Both my cousins in London!" Anne said, clapping her hands in an attempt to lift the tension that had fallen on the room due, in large part, to Lady Catherine's tangible disappointment at Darcy and Elizabeth's engagement. "How wonderful it will be to have you so near. Perhaps we might visit, Mama?" This request was offered with caution, but not, Darcy was surprised to see, dismissed out of hand.

"Perhaps," Lady Catherine said. "Mrs Bennet," she turned toward Elizabeth's mother. "Where are you staying in Hunsford? I trust you appreciate the beauty of the little parish?"

The conversation moved on, and Darcy allowed himself the liberty of relaxing, just a fraction. He met Anne's eyes, and was surprised to see them sparkling with excitement. Evidently, her wish to visit London was not merely offered out of solidarity with her cousin. _In that case, dear Anne, you will come and stay in my home for as long as we may have you._ Lady Catherine might object to his marrying Elizabeth, but if her daughter did not, then surely in time his aunt would relent.


	31. Chapter 31

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was nervous. It was not an emotion he was overly familiar with, having to delve back into this childhood for the last time he felt such an overwhelming sense of anxiety as he felt at present.

"Cheer up," Darcy said. This, at least, had the impact of making Richard laugh, for to hear such an instruction from the lips of his notoriously bad-tempered cousin was amusing indeed, and served to force his nerves to recede into the background.

"I might offer you the same advice," he responded, raising his eyebrows.

"It is not my wedding day," Darcy countered. "Nobody cares whether I am happy or not. I rather think it tradition for the groom to at least assume the posture of excitement, contentment, joy, even."

"Joy? Well, if that is the promised state we shall find you in upon your wedding day, cousin, I shall very much look forward to attending." Richard fumbled with his cravat which, at that moment, felt so very tight as to be constricting the amount of air able to reach his lungs.

"You really are nervous." Darcy was incredulous. "Wonders will never cease. If I could not see you with my own eyes I should scarcely credit it."

"No more should you," Richard muttered. "Or mention it. To anyone. Ever." He fidgeted where he stood, rubbing damp palms down the tops of his thighs. "Is it time?"

"Almost."

"Good."

He sat, momentarily, in the pew next to Darcy, then stood, unable to be still even for this short time. He glanced out over the crowd - small, by necessity, but providing a backdrop of murmured conversation that ought to have been comforting, and instead served to set Richard's nerves still more on edge.

"Well," Darcy hauled himself to his feet. "We might as well stand." He nodded, catching the eye of Mr Collins, who stepped forward to meet them.

"Good morning, gentleman," he said, with a grim smile at Darcy that broadened into something approaching genuine friendliness toward Richard. Idly, he wondered if Collins begrudged his cousin for securing Elizabeth's hand, when he had proposed first. _Surely even he acknowledges they are better suited,_ he thought, then wrestled his thoughts into line. It would do him no favours to attempt to distract himself from his own future by considering the fate of Fitzwilliam Darcy. A sound by the window caught Mr Collins' ear, and he turned away momentarily. "Ah, they are arriving." He guided Richard and Darcy to where they should stand, ready for the arrival of the bridal party. Mary had wished for no attendants beyond her father, confessing that she should not like to choose from her sisters and certainly did not wish all four of them to be part of the procession. They had travelled together, though, and the sudden explosion of giggling and whispered conversation suggested to Richard, without turning to confirm his suspicions, that Lydia and Kitty had arrived with their mother, with Jane and Elizabeth in tow. Darcy turned, and nodded, which settled Richard's nerves.

"I shan't ask you if you wish to change your mind," Darcy remarked, under his breath.

"You already know the answer." Richard smiled. "I am as sure of this as I have ever been of anything."

Conversations fell away to an expectant hush, and then, and only then, Richard risked a glance behind him. His smile grew wider as he saw Mary walking on her father's arm, in a pretty white gown that complimented her dark hair and eyes. She returned his smile, shyly, and in an impossibly short time was standing by his side. Mr Bennet, too, looked utterly delighted by the happy couple, retreating contentedly to his own pew as soon as Mr Collins dismissed him.

Even Mr Collins' monotone voice could not detract from Richard's happiness. He knew the words well, felt certain that they were burned into the brain of any man who had ever attended a wedding, although he reasoned it was rather different, when the wedding one heard them at was one's own. Even so, he needed no prompting to offer his "I will", and breathed a sigh of relief when Mary's accompanying whisper followed.

Almost before it began, the wedding was over, and the happy crowd made for a local inn. It had been decided, at Richard's insistence, that the wedding breakfast should take place in Hunsford, rather than returning en masse to Rosings, and he had been even more determined to stick to his plan once Darcy and Elizabeth's engagement had been announced. Lady Catherine had at least consented to attend their wedding, and had clasped Mary so warmly that Richard had been touched to see how expertly she had won his crotchety aunt to her side.

The room was filled with good food, laughter and conversation, and Richard felt his nerves utterly at peace. He was surrounded by friends and family, and with his new bride by his side. He could want for nothing more.


	32. Chapter 32

_A/N - Well, here goes, last chapter (of this book!) Thank you so much for reading along and for commenting, I have a ton to read through and catch up on, I'm so sorry for getting so behind!_

 _I have book #3 in the series ready to start posting on Monday so although this story is finished, THE story continues. I hope you have enjoyed thus far and will stick with us for another wedding and a few more surprises along the way..._

 _Until then! :)_

* * *

"What a fine day it has been, Lizzy," Mr Bennet remarked, as they waved the newly-married Colonel and Mrs Fitzwilliam off, and the last of the guests departed.

"I am so happy for Mary," Elizabeth agreed. "And both she and Colonel Fitzwilliam seem so utterly delighted with one another. I think they shall be very content together."

"And now there is another couple that might be happily wed." Mr Bennet's voice raised slightly at the end of his statement, posing it as a question.

"I do not think us so deliriously happy as this present couple, Father," she said, carefully. "But I imagine we might strive for contentment, and that is a blessing indeed."

"More so than certain other prospects for marriage?" He would not refer to Mr Collins by name, indeed Elizabeth sensed her father felt a deal of shame for how he had been so easily manipulated by her mother on the matter of Mr Collins.

"I much prefer it this way, Father," she said, with a fervent nod.

"But will you be happy, Lizzy?" he pressed. "Do you -" his lips quirked. "Do you _love_ Mr Darcy?"

"You know I have never been as romantic as Jane, or fallen in love as easily as Lydia," she said, after a pause. "I shall confess, Father, that we do not perhaps have a romance for the ages, but we have a friendship, and that is more than many married couples might boast."

Mr Bennet nodded, sagely, and Elizabeth felt a flash of concern in her chest. Even her own parents could not admit to a friendship, for they spent the majority of the time they did talk in argument.

"Friendship is something to be valued, indeed, but do not close yourself off to the possibility of love, Elizabeth." Her father's voice had grown serious, and he had grown serious with it. "Mr Darcy may have pitched marriage to you as a sensible solution to a problem, but I do not necessarily believe that is the whole truth."

Lizzy's heat quickened. Did her father know of Mr Darcy's situation with Anne, with Lady de Bourgh?

"He is a canny businessman, and not free with his confidences, but I wager he does not hide his affections so readily as he might believe."

Lizzy frowned, and was about to press her father for more, when she noticed Anne approaching to bid them farewell.

"I wish I could persuade you to come back to Rosings," she said, pulling Lizzy into a warm embrace. "I know Mother has been so very difficult about things, but I truly believe she is softening to the idea, and if she could know you better, could know you the way _I_ do, why, all might be different!"

"You have a great deal of faith in my ability to win over those predisposed to dislike me," Elizabeth said, with a laugh. "But I think it is wisest I return to Hertfordshire, at least for a little while. I can go to London from there, once Mr Darcy has all the arrangements made."

Anne nodded, but the wistful smile remained in place.

"And you must come and join us," Elizabeth said, impulsively. "In London, I mean. Surely, if both Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, not to mention his brother, are in town you will be only too eager to spend time with them. And I myself long to see you again."

Anne brightened at this bold compliment, and the warmth of Elizabeth's invitation.

"Perhaps…" she mused. "I do not think Mama will be so very eager to go to London, especially with Christmas on the horizon. But I might be able to visit, at least for a short while." She paused, evidently mulling over the idea. "There is someone else - a friend…" she trailed off, and Elizabeth smiled. _Might this friend be George Martin?_ She would not press her friend, not here, but she felt certain she understood Anne's dilemma. Removing to London, even for a short time, would mean leaving not only Lady de Bourgh behind, but the gentleman she desired to speak to above all others. _Well, might they not correspond in London?_ Surely Anne would not feel the need to hide the connection, if her mother were not there to loom, disapprovingly, over the whole.

"Come to London," Lizzy pressed her. "You might tell anyone who would wish to write to you that they can reach you at Mr Darcy's house, then there is no need to worry."

Anne frowned, as if Elizabeth's words puzzled her, but before she could say anything further, Lady Catherine's voice could be heard from the doorway.

"Anne! Must we wait all day? Come, I wish to return home at once!"

Anne clasped Lizzy's hand warmly.

"I must go. Do, do write to me Elizabeth, dear. And perhaps you are right. Perhaps I should join you in London. I will keep abreast of your plans through William, but I long to hear it from your own pen too. And even if my mother does not abide the marriage, I am utterly in favour of it. I cannot wait to have you for a cousin as well!"

With one last embrace, she departed, and Elizabeth found herself alone. She did not remain so for very long, however, for a deep voice broke through her reverie.

"Well, that is the first wedding over," Darcy remarked, with a gruff smile.

"You almost sound as if you approve," Lizzy teased.

"Approve of the wedding, or approve of it being over?" He raised a rakish eyebrow, and Elizabeth laughed. "I shall return to Hertfordshire tomorrow," Darcy continued. "Charles has already invited me back to Netherfield, although I expect to be in London before the week is out. Are you certain you approve of the plan?"

"Approve of you returning to Netherfield?" Elizabeth asked, returning his teasing comment back to him. "Or approve of the plan to remove to London?"

"Either," Darcy said, nodding in acknowledgement of her superior wit. "Both." He fell serious. "Once we are married there is no going back," he said, with a frown. "My intention remains the same, I ask only whether your thoughts on the matter have changed."

Mr Bennet's words came back to her, and Elizabeth found herself examining Mr Darcy's face in detail. It was the same as it had always been, the same dark eyes, the same almost-scowl, yet there was something else. A softening in his expression, a light in the depths of his eyes that regarded her so intently. _He does not hide his affections as readily as he believes_ , her father had said. Could it be that Mr Darcy loved her after all? The thought made Elizabeth's heart beat faster, and when she spoke her voice was surprisingly shy.

"My thoughts have not changed, Mr Darcy. Let us marry, and marry soon."

 _The End_

 _A/N - Book #3 will start posting on Monday, so I hope you will stick with us for the next instalment :)_


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